


freakshow

by 1800pluto, apricxtfalls



Series: the performance (mcyt x bnha) [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Arson, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Crimes & Criminals, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Illegal Activities, Illusions, Major Character Injury, Panic Attacks, Sort Of, Villain Technoblade, Violence, dont be like techno, i update too slow im so sorry, inconsistent updates, the chapters after that are better i think, the first 15 or so chapters are absolute garbage im so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2021-04-01
Packaged: 2021-04-04 03:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 58,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21926233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1800pluto/pseuds/1800pluto, https://archiveofourown.org/users/apricxtfalls/pseuds/apricxtfalls
Summary: "And- not even close! if you wish to defeat me, train for another million years."In a world where 80% of the population has supernatural powers called quirks, a villain is terrorizing the people of the United States.(title changed from 'blood for the blood god' to 'freakshow' on july 4th, 2020 (7/4/20)
Series: the performance (mcyt x bnha) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996546
Comments: 261
Kudos: 1187
Collections: fics that made me feel Things





	1. intro

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are written as their personas only. There are no character deaths, but there will be violence. A few characters are also villainized and/or VERY out of character. There is no shipping in this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This fic depicts blood, violence, and villainizes many content creators. Please view at your own discretion.  
If you decide to continue, I hope you enjoy the story :)

**#1 - TedNivison** \- Once he gets someone to laugh, he can stop their quirk for a random amount of time! Times can range from three seconds to five minutes! Incredibly handy when battling villains! 

**#2 - Skeppy** \- He can turn things into an explosive at command! However, he cannot use this quirk on items that weigh more than 60 pounds! 

**#3 - Jschlatt** \- His nails are covered with gold! He can detach them at will and mould them at will! One can grow to up to seven inches in just a second. 

**#4 - WilburSoot** \- He can manipulate the sounds made by an instrument to cater the sound to a specific person! So a simple guitar note can sound like regular music to one, but a banshee to another! What incredible control! 

**#5 - Philza** \- Rose to fame after surviving in the wild for five years straight! His quirk gives him enhanced features- he doesn't have to eat or drink much, he can withstand a lot of blows... all he needs is his trusty sword to take down a villain! 

**#6 - Spifey** \- He can do anything a beaver does and more! He has sturdy teeth, enhanced swimming abilities, waterproof skin... and a big beavertail to come with! 

**#7 - Traves** \- He can heal a wound with the touch of a hand! Healing duration can take from five seconds up to five minutes. If it's a big wound or if he didn't use his quirk to its full extent, it will simply speed up the healing process drastically. 

**#8 - Slimecicle** \- He can turn nearby water into a toxic slime-like substance and control them at will! Due to this, he and Cscoop team up frequently because of their quirks matching. 

**#9 - Cscoop** \- He can turn the moisture in the air into water! He can also turn most substances into water. He recently realized he can also turn parts of the water into bubbles!

**#10 - Dream** \- He's an illusionist and he can make anyone see any type of illusion for a certain period of time! Extremely handy when escaping or fighting!

**#11 - BadBoyHalo** \- He can change the temperature of the air as far as a 500-meter radius around him! However, he can only make it warmer! Once he stops using his quirk, the air will quickly revert to their temperature before affected by his quirk! He is also nearly immune to heat. 

**#12 - Finnster** \- He can change his face into whatever he wants, but his body will remain the same! He doesn't excel in combat, but has done many major undercover missions to earn his spot on the leaderboards! 

**#13 - Zelkam** \- He can do anything a tiger does and more! He is constantly accused of copying Spifey. He has sharp claws and fangs, enhanced strength and speed, and a pair of ears to go with! 

**#14 - Mega -** He can cancel out someone's quirk for up to 15 seconds! He can also reduce the effects of their quirk for 30 seconds. The longer he uses his quirk, the dizzier he gets. He's also slowly losing his voice due to a side effect!

**———**

**Technoblade **(villain) - Killed many civilians and heroes. One of the most dangerous villains since All for One and the Hero Killer. No one knows his quirk. Quirk-cancelling quirks don't work on him. His quirk is truly a mystery.


	2. Arc One: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Technoblade strikes once again at an orphanage in Texas. There were no survivors. One of the deaths that occurred that were not that of an orphan’s was a pro hero. Could this imply that pro heroes were weaker than the Blood God? Can we really trust them?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: the characters in this story are written as their personas only. no shipping is in this story.

_“Technoblade strikes once again at an orphanage in Texas. There were no survivors. One of the deaths that occurred that were not that of orphans was a pro hero. Could this imply that pro heroes were weaker than the Blood God? Can we really trust them?”_

——

Skeppy lounged in his living room, laying across the comfy couch. His bored eyes stared blankly at his phone, his fingers moving on their own and scrolling through the articles, most of which was clickbait. Nothing he hasn’t seen before.

After a couple more minutes of repetitive article viewing, he set his phone down on the coffee table and closes his eyes, sighing deeply. Nothing interesting happened anymore. Villains were striking less in his region, and when they did? They were stolen by Spifey. That annoying beaver always steals his villains.

And the criminals? Boring! No one was worthwhile. Just pathetic street gang members and lame burglars that stole from convenience stores. Even if he arrested a hundred low-level thugs, he couldn’t even move up a ranking. Japan gets all the cool stuff- Hero Killer, League of Villains...

Though, one villain came to mind.

Technoblade. The terrorist that rose to fame after hospitalizing a high-ranking hero, who died after unsuccessful surgery. The name sends people into a cold sweat. The name sends Skeppy into an excited tremble.

Described as a tall man with bright pink hair, Technoblade didn’t even bother with hiding his appearance. He’s active on social media with tons of throwaway accounts and loved to goad media outlets and tabloids into turning against the heroes.

Skeppy longed for the day he meets him.

——

_“Technoblade is currently holding a child hostage in an abandoned factory as heroes attempt to negotiate.”_

——

“Hey Wilbur,” Schlatt turned to his British friend, who was engaged in a game on his phone. Wilbur didn’t even bother looking up and ignored Schlatt.

The two heroes were currently in Wilbur’s bedroom. As small as it is, it has a comfy feel to it. Wilbur’s guitar rests beside Wilbur as he plays. The clock behind them flickers on and off.

Schlatt poked Wilbur with a gold-clad finger. “Wilbur!” He says louder. Wilbur turns away and continues playing. “What are you even playing? That Raid: Shadow Legends again, whatever it’s called?”

Wilbur doesn’t answer.

Schlatt knows he has to pull it out.

Sighing, he reaches down to his lap, where a stick-like figure was.

“WILBUR,” he screeches into the microphone, one that was specially made to resemble the infamous ‘funny mic’. Wilbur jumps, dropping his phone, eyes widening.

Schlatt snickers.

“What, Schlatt?” Wilbur sighs when he has calmed down.

“Have you heard of that new villain? Technoblade?”

Wilbur’s eyes narrowed. “The one that almost killed Charlie? Yeah, duh. Charlie was fucking lucky to have escaped.”

“He posted on this throwaway Instagram account saying he was coming to our state next,” Schlatt drawled, lifting his phone up.

“What the fuck?” Wilbur spat out, snatching the phone and looking at the screen.

The first image is of Technoblade’s back, his bright pink hair and crown easily recognizable as the man himself. He’s on an empty train, facing the windows. A bag rests beside him, a pocket knife slightly visible in the front pocket.

The second image is one that shows his train ticket with everything but the words “destination: California” crossed out, seemingly with a black marker. It rests on a train seat with Technoblade’s hand pointing towards it.

The caption reads, “coming to california @wilbursootofficial @jschlattt @TedNivison @traves @cscoop try and stop me. gon’ burn this train down after im done w/ it”.

Wilbur’s grip visibly tightens on the phone.

“That bastard is gonna die.”

—

_“A train from Texas was burnt down after arriving at California. After investigation, it was revealed that Technoblade was the one behind this crime.”_

—

“Hey Bad,” Finn leaned over the table to peer down at Darryl. “You think we can beat Technoblade in a fight?”

Darryl winced. “Just thinking of him makes me cringe. We’re number 10 and 11, but I think we would probably be incapacitated for life even if we do defeat him. Have you seen what he did to Slimecicle? Dude was #8 and just barely escaped death...”

Finn slapped Darryl on the shoulder, making the older man yelp in pain. “Don’t be such a pessimist! We’ll beat ‘im for sure. Slimecicle was probably just having a bad day!”

Darryl sniffs. “I’m not a pessimist. I’m a realist. Slimecicle was not having a bad day. Why do you think he’s #8? Because he's competent in his job. If he was having an off day, he wouldn’t have tried to beat Technoblade-“

“Just shut up, will ya?” Finn slaps Darryl’s shoulder once more, but even behind his confident gaze, there was a hint of doubt showing in his eyes.

——

_"Technoblade kills innocent orphans at a local orphanage."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas to everyone who sees this 
> 
> EDIT: @galaxy__nebula on Instagram has made this astonishing fanart for this chapter! please, please take the time to look at it, and also check them out on insta!! -> https://imgur.com/5Bv0fXA


	3. Arc One: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Charlie, I won't provoke Technoblade," Ted promises. "If he attacks me, however, I will destroy him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on, everybody will be addressed as their hero names when in third-person POV. 
> 
> ————
> 
> New characters:
> 
> -Slimecicle, the Slime Hero!
> 
> -Traves, The Healing Hero!
> 
> -Cscoop, The Aquatic Hero!
> 
> -Mega, The Muting Hero!
> 
> -Zelkam, The Tiger Hero!

**————**

_"Technoblade murders a citizen in an alleyway. Witnesses say that it was in broad daylight."_

**————**

"Hey, Ted," said a man, lying in a hospital bed, cables connecting to his arms and a cast wrapped around his legs, bandages covering his ribcage.

"Hey, Charlie," Ted responds, his usual playful demeanour gone, replaced with a more serious face. He placed a bowl of fruit on Slimecicle's bedside table, already covered with chocolates, snacks, and flowers from both fans and friends alike. One person even went as far as to decorate sugar cookies in the shape of Slimecicle's logo.

"Thank you for the fruit. I think if I eat one more caramel chocolate, I would throw up," Slimecicle joked. Ted chuckles half-heartedly, sitting in a rather uncomfortable looking chair beside Slimecicle's bed. Slimecicle weakly turns his head to face Ted. "Why the frown?"

"Well, you're in a hospital bed, for one," Ted shrugs, glancing at the table of candy. "Mind if I have a mint?"

"Go for it. I hate 'em."

Ted takes a mint out of a jar, unwrapped it and popped it in his mouth. "So how strong is this Technoblade fellow?"

Slimecicle visibly stiffens. "Ted, do not try to attack or capture him. He is so powerful... like the Hero Killer, that dude from Japan! I barely put a scratch on him. He doesn't use his quirk, but instead his sword..." he trails off, seeing the hard look in Ted's eyes. "H-hey, buddy, I'm just looking out for you. Don't provoke him unless he provokes you! You're number one, but-"

"Charlie, I won't provoke Technoblade," Ted promises. "If he attacks me, however, I will destroy him."

**————**

_"Technoblade escapes the clutches of authorities once again."_

**————**

"Bad!" Skeppy cries out, leaping onto BadBoyHalo's back, causing the older man to stumble and yelp in surprise. "Oh my god, Skeppy! That's dangerous!" Bad shouts angrily, shaking Skeppy off like a dog would do to water. "I could have fallen! We would've been injured!"

"Loosen up, Bad!" the shorter laughs, shoving Bad forward, causing him to stumble even more. "Stop it, Skeppy! I'm on patrol!" Bad hisses out urgently. "If a paparazzi sees this, they'll assume we're dating!"

Skeppy gasps in mock offence. "So you think I'm not good enough to date you?! Are you homophobic?"

Bad rolls his eyes. "Please. I just don't want anyone getting the wrong idea... like with Cscoop and Traves?!" Skeppy groans in response. "Yeah, you're right..." he backs away from Bad slowly.

"There seems to be no villains around..." Bad mumbles, looking around and then checking his phone. "And my patrol time is over in three minutes. Why don't we head over to Finn's apartment?"

Skeppy jumps up with excitement. "Sure! Let's go!"

**————**

"Travis, pipe down," Cooper mumbles, sliding his mouth mask further over his mouth. "We can't get recognized!" Another boy beside him lets out a drawn-out "aww".

"Sorry, Cooper, I'm just so excited about the new 'Raid: Shadow Legends - The Movie'!" Traves sighs, the name of the movie smoothly comings out of his mouth like he was an advertiser for the film. Cooper rolls his eyes and flicks Traves's ear, the other yelping "ow!" in return.

"We're at the theatre now. You brought the tickets, right?" Cooper asks Traves, who nods. "I'm so sad Ted can't come. He said he didn't want to see a movie with Fitz in it."

Cooper sighs. "Petty ass."

"Hopefully, Ted is doing well. Noah's out doing... something. I'm too afraid to ask," Traves mused, tapping his chin and then pushing his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"Imagine if fuckin' Technoblade just jumps out of nowhere and yoinks him," Cooper jokes.

"Haha, yeah!"

**————**

Philza checked his phone for what seemed to be the nth time that day. Everything lately seemed to be so... boring. He was in Nevada at the moment, and his trip to Arizona is in three weeks, though it felt like years.

It's been almost ten years since he moved to the United States to pursue his hero career. He would have stayed in England, but most British heroes didn't typically get a lot of fame since it's such an underdeveloped country when it comes to heroes.

He pursed his lips, scrolling through his Twitter feed. Skeppy defeats another villain, he thinks. What a surprise. The number two hero would soon dethrone the number one, Philza thinks. Maybe in another year or so. What a talented young man, so famous at just 19. Mega was probably the youngest- 16 and at number 13.

Damn it, he should have become a hero sooner...

Philza looks at the replies of his most recent Tweet. Many were supportive comments, but at least a hundred spoke of the new villain, Technoblade.

**SKEPPY HEROTOOZ OUT NOW (@SK3PP709182)**

_lol when are you gonna do something about technoblade smh_

**Michael (@MikeIglanso67)**

_You heroes should really do something about Technoblade! How many people must die before you take action?!_

**BUY WILBUR'S HEROTOOZ (@wi1burs00tstanacc)**

_🤡DO 🤡SOMETHING 🤡ABOUT 🤡TECHNOBLADE 🤡_

Philza's fingers twitched. He was this close to making a Tweet about the entire situation but decided against it. Twitter would definitely just take it badly- saying he's just trying to defend his popularity, criticizing him for doing nothing about it, when in reality, after his Arizona trip would be a very special trip to hunt down a certain someone...

**————**

Zelkam grabbed Mega's wrist tightly, dragging him towards the nearby ice cream parlour. "Please, Mega, just one!" Mega winced and let out quiet yelps of pain. "Zelk, you're hurting me!" He whispers.

Indeed, Zelkam's claws had unsheathed without him knowing and were digging into Mega's wrist. Mega winced again before muting Zelkam's quirk by making Zelkam's claws stubby and useless.

"Oh, sorry, Mega!" Zelkam lets go of Mega's wrist, and the younger rubbed his forearm with a pained expression. "It's okay," Mega says quietly.

Zelkam stared at him for a few seconds in concern. Mega's eyes turn to look at him. "What?"

"You're losing your voice."

"I have been for a very long time, Zelk," Mega murmurs.

"No, but like... quicker than normal. The doctor said three years, and at this rate, it'll be three months!" Zelkam cries out, panicked. He wraps his arm around Mega, who cringes away. "Zelk, let go, or I'll mute you so much your fangs turn into regular teeth for the rest of your life."

"Eek!"

**————**

Black shoes clicked against the floor. The ear-damaging scrape of concrete against diamond pierces through the otherwise silent air. The smell of metal lingers, a trail of red gliding along the floor along with the scrape of diamond. The night looms over the suburbs of Texas, the stars gleaming down on the man who walks down the lanes like souls pleading for his demise.

"Should I go to Oklahoma or California next?" The man whispers to himself. However, nobody is there to hear him except for the crickets. They speak to each other, maybe warning their friends about the man who can do oh so much damage. Their warnings turn to deaf ears.

The moon uncovers itself from the wall of clouds, the dim light barely visible from the street lights, who try so hard to be natural. The shine reflects off the gold on the man's head, shaped in a circle and jagged to be a crown.

Are those jewels fake or real? Either way, they seem menacing. The crown contrasts with the rest of his outfit, luxury and royalty clashing with the shady looking clothes of the man. The grey-red cloak hangs on his frame, decorated with faux-fur and jacket strings hanging from the fur. The half grey, half red shirt of his resembles blood against the concrete floor. Plain, dark grey pants matched with regular black shoes.

Despite the colour theme of grey and red, a mop of bright pink hair is on his head. Bangs cover his forehead and a bit of his hot pink contacts. Two long scratches, so dark red that it's pretty much black but evidently carved on, slides from the bottom of his eyes to the end of his cheeks like Halloween makeup. His ears have tunnels, bearing black stretched-ears piercings.

A diamond sword is loosely clutched black-gloved hands, blood trailing from the tip.

"I think I'll pay a visit to Mr. Number One," Technoblade says to himself. "Oklahoma can wait. Yeaah, I think California's the right choice."

Technoblade lifts the tip of his sword up to his waist and wipes the last trickle of red down the corner of his cloak. Letting out a breathy sigh, he looks up into the night sky.

"Now, should I get out the bomb?"


	4. Arc One: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technoblade pulls the hood over his head even further. Shame he couldn't stop to get Philza, but he needed to get to California quickly and silently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TAG - GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE HAS BEEN ADDED TO THE STORY.

**New character:**

**-ConnorEatsPants, #1 rapper!**

**————**

_"Technoblade spotted in Texas after the Slimecicle incident."_

**————**

Technoblade pulls the hood over his head even further, the mouth-mask covering half his face and the carvings that decorate his cheeks. Usually, he would just simply threaten the train station workers into letting him board the train, but he needed to make this quick.

He was currently boarding his third train, from Arizona to California. Shame he couldn't stop to get Philza, but he needed to get to California quickly and silently.

The breeze blows against his body, causing him to shiver slightly. Arizona was usually warm, but today was rather windy, to his disliking. He boards the train and quickly moves to the last carriage, sliding himself into a seat on the corner. He lets go of his luggage and let it drop to the ground in front of him, which contained his sword, a medkit, and... some other things.

Gotta do something with all that gunpowder, eh?

He hears a few gasps and claps, and lifts his hood up to stare at the commotion. There, in all of his glory, stood a hero.. what were his name and rank again? He couldn't remember, but he was quite the looker. Luscious blond hair swept to the side with delicate features. Bright green eyes with faux care for his fans. That explains all the rabid fangirls screaming for photos.

God, he hated heroes like this... constantly seeking for high approval ratings with their looks.

"Please, I'm pursuing a villain," the hero says haughtily, which Technoblade openly winces at. Disgusting. Did they send a hero after me? Because of my Instagram post?

Either way, he picks up his luggage, hugging it to his chest. With the hood covering half of his vision (annoying, but mandatory), he unzips the bag to ready himself. His diamonds sword shines even in the train, resting on top of his first-aid kit (untouched, because he's just so good at combat that he never gets defeated).

Technoblade holds the bag shut, but doesn't zip it up to maintain easy access to his sword.

The hero is making his way down the train towards him, checking everyone around him as fangirls follow closely behind, still snapping photos. Technoblade hisses slightly in annoyance at the pathetic excuse for a hero... these were the type he hated the second most.

"You there!" The hero calls out, raising a finger to point at Technoblade's hooded figure. "Could you lift your hood to reveal your face?"

Technoblade scoffs. "Not even a please..?" He murmurs, keeping his hood down. The hero marches towards him. "Mister, I'm going to ask you to lift your hood. I'm a pro hero and this is part of a mandatory check."

"Nahhh," Technoblade drags out, turning around to face the wall.

"Sir-"

"You heroes are going to be the death of our society... get lost, nerd,"

The hero visibly bristles. He lifts a hand and grabs Technoblade's hood. "Sir, I did not want forcibly take your hood off." He yanks the hood down and blinks. "Your hair-"

With movements as quick as lightning, the villain grabs his diamond sword, slicing at the hero and jumping to his feet. The hero jumps back, stumbling.

Technoblade's pink hair is more visible than ever now, a clear symbol for who he is. "Guess there's no point for this then," he drawls, pulling his mouth-mask down to reveal dark red carvings climbing up his cheeks with little crosses to accompany the eyes.

"I would say heroes should've realized who I was sooner, but that would require like, more than one brain cell and I don't think you have that. Have you tried getting good?" The terrorist taunts the hero, who snarls. The fangirls were shrieking now, dashing to the other side of the train to hide.

"I will defeat Technoblade!" The hero yells out, raising his hand. Technoblade sees now that his fingertips are replaced with sharp metal points. Knives? Are they considered that?

The knives (poles?) suddenly stretched out to stab at Technoblade, who simply steps to the side. With a quick movement, he cuts the poles (spears?) into pieces.

"You fiend! I, Spearman, the Sharp Hero, will defeat you!" The hero cries out. The stubby points of the spears sharpen to stab at Technoblade again, who slices smoothly to cut them again.

"What a laaame hero name," Technoblade yawns. "I'm getting bored. Let's end this quickly."

"What do you mean-" Spearman was cut off by Technoblade suddenly lunging forward, sword clutched in both hands like a baseball bat. In an instant, the hero shoots the poles out again to plant on the floor, shooting himself back. Technoblade doesn't stop his pursuit, however, and continues forward, slashing at the poles.

"Cease, villain!" The hero cries out, sharpening the poles once more, but it's too late.

Slash!

Bright crimson blooms across Spearman's bodysuit. A deep, long gash drags itself over the hero's chest, deep enough to be fatal. The hero's green eyes (oh so green... so pretty with absolute desperation) grow wide. The poles snap in half as the hero falls backwards, the blood spilling over his body, resembling a beautiful mannequin snapped in half.

"Should have chosen a better defence, sorry," Technoblade sing-songs out lazily, as if the red dripping off his sword meant nothing to him. "Heroes are always like this... they try to kill me but gets absolutely destroyed. Meehhhh," he steps up to the hero, still struggling and gasping for air.

Crouching down to meet the bright green eyes, he presses a blood-covered blade to the hero's neck.

"Why are you-"

"Nope. Monologuing is for losers," Technoblade rolls his eyes and slashed the hero's neck right open. Blood sprays out of the second wound, flowing beautifully like none before. The hero's eyes turn dull and lifeless. Such pretty, sparkly eyes now reduced but nothing but grey.

"Look at you, not a single cut or bruise anywhere except for these two," Technoblade traces the fatal wounds with the flat side of his sword, like smearing butter over toast. Except the butter is blood, and the toast is the corpse. "That just proves I'm just so much better. I'm just the best! Dead in two hits.... what a bad hero."

The train slows around him, and a voice comes over the intercom. "We have arrived at our destination- Los Angeles, California. Thank you for riding with us."

Technoblade picks up his luggage, wiping his diamond sword down the side of the cushioned seats. The train comes to a complete stop, and Technoblade puts his hood back over his head hurriedly. The doors slide open, and the pink-haired man rushes outside, lifting his gaze to look around him.

He sees four heroes.

"Ah, shit. Here we go again."

**————**

"Travis, we've got an agency meeting tomorrow," Cooper says, looking up from his computer screen. Traves lets out a long whine. "Seriously? Why can't Ted go? He's number one, right?"

The two were sitting in Cooper's room, with Cooper sitting at his desk and Traves lounging on the bed, playing some sort of mobile game on his phone. The curtains were slightly open, the sunlight peeking in. Cooper claims it was because the room gets too bright when he opens it fully. Traves thinks it's because Cooper's a vampire.

"Junky wants to meet up," Cooper shrugs, spinning his chair around. Traves immediately perks up. "That child actor from the Gumball series?! He had a part in 'Raid: Shadow Legends - The Movie'! Heck yeah, I'm going! I'll see if he can get me Grunk's autograph too!"

"Huh. Pokimane might come too..."

"Whaat? Is it Christmas already?! Pokimane?! The famous pop star?"

"Oh, never mind, she cancelled."

"Booooo," Traves sighs, flopping back onto the bed. "Hopefully I get to see Grunk and Junky though!" Cooper turns back to his computer. "Good luck talking to them without freaking out,"

"Yeah, I- what?! Cooper, you're so mean!" Traves protests. "I wouldn't! Hey- Cooper! Don't ignore me! Cooper!"

**————**

"Connor! How's the rapper life goin'?" Schlatt yells into the phone, causing the man on the other end to gasp and chuckle. "Pretty good. Got a tour coming up soon, tickets completely sold out. That's thousands, right there," Connor informs Schlatt. "How about you? The hero's life?"

"Dude, I'm climbing ranks fast," Schlatt smiles, looking at the newspaper clippings on his bulletin board, which talk about Schlatt's rise to number three. "Maybe I'll even dethrone Skeppy! Unless he goes to number one,"

"Fucking slay, dude!" Connor shouts into the phone. "Tell me- what's that feeling you get when you destroy villains?"

Schlatt hums, tapping his chin in thought. "Well, glory, for one. Feels like you're protecting the people. Achievement if it's a B or higher ranked villain."

"Speaking of strong villains, what about that S-class villain? Technoblade? Was that his name?" Connor brings up casually, oblivious to Schlatt stiffening on the other side of the line. "He fought Charlie, didn't he? I didn't see the results, I was doing concerts. Did Charlie kick his ass?"

There was a long, awkward pause. "Uh, Schlatt?" Connor says innocently.

"Charlie lost," Schlatt responds slowly and shakily. "Technoblade beat him and now he's in a hospital,"

An audible inhale was heard from Connor's side of the line. "Are you fucking serious? How?! Is he okay?! Fuck, Schlatt, I'm so sorry. I was too busy with my goddamn tours!" Connor's words were always littered with profanities, weren't they?, Schlatt thinks bitterly.

"No, no, it's okay," Schlatt reassures his panicked friend, leaning against his bed-frame. "Charlie's okay, just injured! He'll be back in business soon."

Connor exhales in relief. "Oh god, Technoblade is an asshole, isn't he?" Schlatt hears him mutter. Without responding, Schlatt turned to look at the third shelf of his bookcase. Herotooz vinyl figures were arranged neatly on it, with the top twenty heroes all clear of dust. Slimecicle stood in the front along with the rest of the top ten.

"Any-ways," Schlatt drawls, trying to switch the topic. "Did you hear? Another Herotooz is coming out. They're finally releasing Zelkam's,"

"Oh yeah, I heard! Why the fuck would they release Mega before him?! I have nothing against Mega, he's one of my favourites, but isn't he ranked lower than Zelkam? I don't get it..."

As Connor began to ramble about Herotooz, Schlatt stared off at the row of hero figures. Would all of them be able to beat Technoblade? Or was the man a villain that would surpass the threat of the League of Villains or even the Hero Killer? Schlatt didn't know, but he was a little scared to find out what would happen if Technoblade came to California...


	5. Arc One: Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> blood.god.technoblade: oh yeah btw im outside your door lmao

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed Schlatt’s quirk so that instead of gold replacing his fingernails completely, his nails simply has a layer of gold over them.

_“Cscoop and Traves spotted heading into the Hypixel: UHC premiere with a famous child actor, Junky.”_

**\-----**

It was supposed to be a regular afternoon.

Cscoop and Traves had gone to see the new Wispexe movie that came out with Junky and Ted would start up a stream on his Instagram for fun. The hero sat down on his bed, tapped onto Instagram, and started a live.

Instantly, thousands of fans poured into the chat, skyrocketing his viewer count to five thousand, and more still coming. He smiled, seeing all of the greetings in chat, before waving to the camera.

“Hey, y’all,” Ted greeted his fans. “So Cscoop and Traves went out to see UHC. What are your thoughts on the Hypixel series, chat?” He shifted to lean on his many pillows, watching as the chat gave a review. Almost all of the viewers spammed ‘good’ or ‘great’.

Ted nods, shifting his gaze to look at a Hypixel: SkyBlock poster on his wall and sighs and moves back to look at his phone.

“Huh. I liked Skyblock best, but UHC is pretty good too. Wispexe is a good actor, isn’t he? Well, enough about movies, let’s do a Q&A-“

His heart stopped.

The chat was spammed with ‘TECHNOBLADE’ or something along those sorts. His viewer count, previously fifteen thousand, grew to eighteen thousand. Brows furrowed, he tilted his head.

“Y’all are fucking with me,” Ted drawls, dismissing it as a prank. Though, he kept wary eyes on his chat, moving faster than the speed of light. There, he saw a message from the user ‘blood.god.technoblade’.

Ted did a double-take.

**blood.god.technoblade**: nice taste, i liked bedwars and skywars best, but skyblock is a close favourite.

**blood.god.technoblade**: oh yeah btw im outside your door lmao

As Ted mouthed the last few words with shock, a hand slapped itself onto his door, slamming it into the wall so hard, it was sure to leave a dent in the wall.

This was the first time Ted has seen Technoblade in person.

His bright pink hair seemed so much more vibrant than those news articles and Instagram snapshots. Rather than black, the carvings on his cheeks were a very dark red, scarred into his cheeks. The signature crown rested gently on a pink-haired head. The diamond sword gleamed with bloodlust.

A sinister smile crossed the terrorist’s face.

“Hellooo!”

————

_“Technoblade attacks TedNivison at his residence.”_

————

Finnster slammed a fist onto his desk, his Herotooz that laid so neatly beside his computer toppling over. "What the hell?" he spat, the tauntingly bright 'YOU DIED' interface shining. Behind him, Skeppy snickered as he continued playing Super Smash Bros on his Switch. He sat on the floor of Finnster's room, leaning against the bed where Bad laid on his stomach, leaning over the edge as he used a separate controller and played with Skeppy.

"Calm down, Finn," Skeppy's fingers danced across the buttons of his controller, hitting a combo on Bad's character. Finnster hit his desk again, but a smile graced his lips.

Finnster pulled his headphones off, throwing them on the table carelessly. He gently handled his Herotooz, putting it back into a stance before leaving his chair and joining Skeppy on the floor.

"I play the winner!" He called.

A few minutes passed of Skeppy and Bad fighting on the Switch before Skeppy finally K.Oed Bad, to which the older groaned in annoyance.

"You always win. No fair," he whines, gently tossing the controller to Finnster.

As soon as the controller touched Finnster's fingers, a shrill alarm rang out through the room, the sound seemingly coming from the phones of the trio. To a regular citizen, the sound may have been unrecognizable, as it occurs rarely. However, to the three heroes, they recognized it immediately.

"Is that a Platinum Alert?!" Bad jumped at the sound, grabbing at his phone. Sure enough, a notification appeared on his phone that of a Platinum Alert.

Platinum Alerts only occurred when a state or a big city was under attack by a powerful villain ranked Class B or higher. Usually, the state or city would be in a major threat for this alert to occur, so it only sounded every year or two.

"Where?!" Skeppy leaned over to look at Bad's phone, the Switch laying forgotten. "California?! We live here! That's so-"

"But it's all the way on the other side of the state," Finnster muttered, slapping his forehead with his palm. "It'll take hours to drive there. We can't do anything! If we do try to drive there, it'll just waste our time..."

"But- it's a Platinum Alert!" Skeppy protested, standing up and reaching for his backpack. "We have to get there-"

"Skeppy, do you know who lives in that region?! Cscoop, Traves, and TedNivison. Do you really think they can't handle that?! Besides, as I said, it'll just waste our time! It'll take a minimum of two hours to get there!" Finnster rises too, giving a firm gaze to Skeppy, who seemed to back down. Bad nodded at Finnster's words and stood up too, placing a hand on Skeppy's shoulder.

"I know you want to go help," he says softly. "We want to too, but we can't do anything. We can turn on the news if you'd like to watch,"

Skeppy huffs. "Turn on the news, fine. Let's see how it plays out,"

————

_“Technoblade and TedNivison battle rages on.”_

————

“What the fuck?”

Jschlatt was simply watching Ted's stream, about to join in before he heard an unfamiliar greeting.

“Hellooo!”

Immediately afterwards, the camera fell into the floor with a crack and explosions sounded around the phone. The stream went crazy, spamming concerns and fearful messages. Jschlatt bit his lip, moving to grab his gear to head to the location. It would only be a thirty-minute drive, he could make it in time!

Keeping his phone on the live stream, the number three hero rushed over to his room to equip his support items. “Forget my hero costume, it can wait,” he murmurs to himself frantically, looking through his closet. “Where’s my regulator? Ah- there it is...”

A laugh ridden with static was heard through the phone. Definitely not Ted's... so could it be..?

“Ted, stream this, you nerd,” a deep male voice taunted from afar through the crackling. “I’m gonna beat you up,”

Jschlatt felt chills run down his spine as he slipped his regulators on his wrists and fingers. The cold metal contrasts against the warmth of his skin harshly, though he winced and simply grabbed his car keys afterwards.

“Ted, wait for me. Just hold out a little longer, please...”

————

Ted knew he couldn’t hold out longer now. His quirk, one that only worked with those with supernatural power, was rendered useless against his opponent. Though he had managed to make Technoblade laugh and snicker many times, every time the man just came back with the same amount of force.

“Uh, one-hour timeout?” Ted chuckled awkwardly, the sting of cuts and bruises coating his body soon to be unbearable. Technoblade let out a bark of laughter at Ted's words.

“You’re cool, dude, I like you,” the terrorist drawled, moving rock out of the way with his diamond sword. “We’ve been fighting for like... twenty-five minutes... and you’re still here,”

“Can’t just let you destroy California,” Ted shrugs.

“Your quirk isn’t the strongest, yet you’re still number one. I respect you, man,” Technoblade slashes at him with his sword, to which Ted dodges weakly and staggers from side to side.

“There it is,” the villain whispers. “An opening,”

The diamond of his sword is suddenly coated with red.

“Shit, amirite?” Ted murmurs.

“Yeah, I aimed for your chest. Nice reflexes even though you’re on death’s door,” Technoblade compliments and draws back his sword as he watches TedNivison's shirt bloom with blood at the shoulder.

The number one hero stumbles and falls backwards into a beautiful bubble, stained red with the sudden blood of the hero.

“Oh, so Cscoop’s here now! How many times do I have to kick heroes’ asses in a row?” Technoblade ranted, looking behind Ted to see a blond-haired man glaring at him, bubbles surrounding him like a glow. “So that means Traves-“

“Hey,” Traves muses, smacking Technoblade in the head from behind, causing the other to hiss out in surprise as a bubble sucked him into a watery trap.

“Hey there, resident sleeper,” Cscoop snarls, flicking his finger and throwing the bubble up harshly, causing Technoblade to shudder slightly. “The fact that you’d attack us is super toxic, y’know?” The bubble starts to float downwards by itself lightly. Even so, the cage is still around 30 feet up.

“Maybe,” Technoblade tries to say but gets a mouth of soap. He shakes in annoyance and lifts his diamond sword to pop the bubble, but a thick cushion of water coats the blade. The man’s fists tighten in sheer irritation as he fishes out a switchblade from his pocket, poking the bubble open and pulling his sword from the water.

He raises his sword to strike down at Cscoop mid-air, but his sword meets a thin wall of solid gold. He flips himself over to step onto the mineral.

“Ew, fingernail gold,” Technoblade growls out, shifting his gaze to the new guest. The mineral beneath his feet suddenly liquify and he is sent falling through the air.

“Excuse me, this is not fingernail gold,” Jschlatt hisses, calling the gold back to his fingers, each surrounded by the expensive yellow. “It’s a layer of gold that is not my fingernails.”

Technoblade lands easily on a bent traffic light, having not fallen that much to avoid serious injuries. He crouches down and stares at the heroes below him with disgust and contempt.

“Bruh,” he calls out. “You ruined it.”

Cscoop hands are coated with bubbles and water again. “You ruined our movie by cutting out the power lines,” he retorts. “Wisp was about to fight the hacker, but no, you just had to-“

“UHC was good, but also kinda ehhhhh,” Technoblade starts to walk down the metal of the traffic light. “It’s not Wisp’s fault, Wisp is cool, but they gave him way too many G-Heads and it was super obvious he was going to win,”

“Yeah, but like- wait, we have to catch you!” Cscoop cuts himself up and raises his hands, the bubbles shooting towards Technoblade. With a few quick swipes, the man popped each and every bubble.

“New Year’s. Don’t forget,” Technoblade drawls, before leaping from the traffic light to a rooftop, his cloak flying behind him, dripping blood.

“Get back here!” Schlatt cries, gold beginning to shoot towards the terrorist, but he was gone. Immediately, a combination of water control and bubbles float Cscoop to the air, the hero following the trail of red.

Ted lets out a breathy gasp. “Shit,” he whispers, and then falls down to the ground.


	6. Arc One: Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "One day after the TedNivison and Technoblade battle, and the people are in anarchy. Citizens from across the country are demanding heightened security from heroes and police alike..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every Reddit username mentioned in this chapter is in no relation to anyone who has their username. They're just users I thought of randomly.

**———**

**New character: Dream, the Illusion Hero!**

**———**

_"Okay guys, I've seen a lot of people talk about how Ted was weak or something like that, which isn't the case... well, he is weak, but the guy was able to hold out against me without his quirk. I applaud him, man,"_

_-Technoblade on his Instagram story._

**———**

"Whaddup, Charlie?" Ted gave a peace sign weakly towards the bespectacled man who sat at his hospital bed. Oh, how the tables have turned. Slimecicle sighs and rolls his eyes. "I told you not to interfere with him, and what did you do?! Interfere with him!"

"Technically, you told me to not go after him," Ted retorts, wincing when he puts down his arm. "He went after me, so I fought him, and I lost. Damn, I bet Skeppy will take my spot now," he mutters.

"Is that the only thing you care about?" Slimecicle bursts out. "You have three broken ribs, a fractured arm, and two broken legs. You have to take care of yourself, man!" He glances towards the bundle of gifts resting Ted's hospital table. "And it pisses me off knowing you have more gifts than me," he admits bashfully.

Ted snickers and looks out the window towards the bustling city. He could practically hear the chatter of the streets from here. Maybe in a few days, the streets would be an apocalyptic scene out of a movie.

"Let's turn on the news," Slimecicle announces, taking the TV remote and turning the television on. He switched through channels until he got to a reputable news source.

_"One day after the TedNivison_ _ and Technoblade battle, and the people are in anarchy. Citizens from across the country are demanding heightened security from heroes and police alike..."_

Ted tuned the news out as Slimecicle mutters on about carelessness. He yawns and checks the time. The news was all about his defeat, and he didn't need salt in the wounds. People on social media were mocking him for being number one and losing to a villain.

_Gosh,_ Ted thinks. _I'd like to see you try fighting that madman._

**———**

_"TommyInnit, famous Twitch streamer, sends his regards to all of those affected by Technoblade."_

**———**

"Wilbur!" Jschlatt yells into the living room of their cozy little apartment. "Where the hell did you put my phone? I'm gonna stream!" The sound of guitar chords stops abruptly, squeaking to a stop.

"It's on the kitchen counter, Schlatt," Wilbur pokes his head out of his bedroom doorframe. "Stop putting your phone near the coffee pot. Someone's gonna get coffee on it,"

Jschlatt sighs and stretches, walking over to the kitchen counter and snatching his phone up.

Wilbur ponders. The amount of blood the newest terrorist has spilt in his regime was too much. As much as Wilbur would like to deny it, he could never beat the scoundrel in a one-on-one fight. The fellow was too strong, too clever. Even a Netherite hero like him might die from Technoblade.

Wilbur closes his door again and sits down on his bed, picking up his acoustic guitar and plucking a few strings half-heartedly. The Stone heroes, those ranked 301 to 500, were sure to die in mere seconds. Iron heroes, ranked 101 to 300, could last a little longer but would die eventually as well. Gold-ranked heroes, 51 to 100, could maybe escape, but their fate, either from blood loss or being tracked down, was inevitable.

Diamond heroes, ranked 21 to 50 if in a group, could have a chance at survival. Emerald heroes, 11 to 20, could probably survive. Netherite ranks 1 through 10. The heroes could maybe beat Technoblade. It was unlikely, but if they all grouped up, they could win. Anyone below 500 would be killed immediately.

Wilbur lifted his guitar to his chest and crossed his legs. His fingers moved to find the frets, and he strummed gently. Once he found his groove, he closed his eyes and began to sing.

_"Wasting your time..."_

**———**

** _I am Technoblade. Ask me anything._ **

_13.5k upvotes_

_**3.5k upvotes, u/[deleted]**: how do we know you're not a fake?_

_**4.3k upvotes, u/bloodgodtechno:** here's a selfie of me_

_(Linked is Technoblade holding up a sign saying 'u/bloodgodtechno. NOT FAKE, AMA.)_

_ **—** _

_**5.6k upvotes, u/dingleberryrose287:** Why do you do what you do?_

_**[CONTROVERSIAL] 32 upvotes, u/bloodgodtechno:** i do this because everyone needs to know that heroes are useless when it comes to competent villains. they put on a useless facade of being a good person but in reality, they are human trash. plus, it's really fun watching everyone trying to defeat me._

_**617 upvotes, u/muwiqmapa: **so basically ur stain_

_**789 upvotes, u/bloodgodtechno:** very hurtful and true_

_—_

_**2.1k upvotes, u/uganadanpope: **Where is your next target?_

_**-3 upvotes, u/bloodgodtechno**: i cant say lol, but it'll be in california. i'm aiming for a kill count of 50._

_**-78 upvotes, u/TECHNOFIRSTFANLOVE:** i cant wait for it! youre so cool, and your ideology is so true! i will be your number one fan and follow you everywhere! you are so funny too! i love you, techno! <3_

_**60 upvotes, u/mookiechu76:** What the fuck_

**———**

_"Technoblade's massacre injures over 200 and kills 50, ten of which were Gold and Iron ranked heroes."_

**———**

Dream held the spot at #10, barely maintaining a Netherite position. His creative way of using his quirk was mainly what kept him in the position, not rising but not falling either. He used illusions to appeal to younger and older fans alike, whilst also being able to use them to attack villains.

He would be higher if not for the Lunch Club. Despite the childish name, Lunch Club was a group of elite heroes consisting of TedNivison, Jschlatt, Slimecicle, Traves, and Cscoop. They don't fight together, which is why they aren't considered one rank altogether, but they are known have very high appeal ratings and are very close to each other.

Dream strolls through the city, hoping not to be recognized. The streets are a little less busy, many being terrified and hiding in their homes. The illusionist rolls his eyes at the thought- if Technoblade were to attack, who's to say he won't destroy the buildings with it?

He thinks about social media. More than one person has called him out for following Technoblade on various platforms. He can be shamed all they want, but Dream finds it useful. The terrorist had posted information like future attacks and locations from the cockiness of his own soul, and who's to say that's a bad thing?

The kill count is steadily rising, and the more it rises, the more heroes were being dismissed. Dream doesn't understand- why do people believe the manipulative tactics of this animal?

A pig has escaped the slaughterhouse of society and has created one of his own.

And this one wasn't going down without a damn good fight.

**———**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mainly meant to be a filler/info chapter. Please bear with me! More action will be coming up soon, I promise!


	7. Arc Two: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> raven (@raven1028371)
> 
> technoblade's entire ideology is correct but y'all aint ready for that conversation yet #bloodforthebloodgod

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Twitter usernames in this story are in no relation to any pre-existing accounts.
> 
> If anyone is okay with me using their username in the story for social media scenes, comment below with the name you would like me to use!
> 
> ———
> 
> New character: TommyInnit, famous Twitch Streamer!
> 
> New character: TapL, famous YouTuber!

**———**

** _raven (@raven1028371)_ **

_technoblade's entire ideology is correct but y'all aint ready for that conversation yet #bloodforthebloodgod_

**———**

Philza, the #462 hero that went missing for five years in a row. Presumed to be dead, everyone moved on, and his case was closed. His few fans mourned for a few weeks but eventually became fans of other heroes.

However, five years after he went missing, he was spotted on the edge of a highway, emerging from one of the biggest forests in the United States. He was rescued and taken to the hospital to check for diseases or injuries- people were shocked to see there were none.

News stations caught onto his story, and Philza's ranking skyrocketed from the four-hundreds to #23. Two years later, and he held the spot at #5 and was happy like this.

Now, Philza waved with a giant smile towards the many fans that surrounded the roped off area. Police held the hungry fans back from the crime scene, where Philza snapped the quirk-restraining handcuffs around a grumbling and beat-up villain.

"You can take it from here, correct?" Philza questioned the officers, one of which who gave him a nod and a jokingly exaggerated salute. Philza laughed at this, causing a few fangirls to swoon and take pictures with their flashing phones.

Philza lifted his wrist, reading the watch. He had around two hours before he had to return to the hotel. Arizona was super hot and he wanted to get to somewhere with air conditioning soon.

Though, he did feel bad for his fans, who stood out here in the hot sun, begging for autographs.

Fuck it, a few fan-signings wouldn't hurt.

_ **———** _

_ **cuteygaming (@cuteygxmingxoxo)** _

_rt if you want to join a technoblade gc #bloodforthebloodgod_

_21 retweets_

**———**

Mega leaned back against the comfy couch, sitting beside Zelk as they played a video game together. Zelk groaned in annoyance, leaning forward and jamming his controller aggressively. Meanwhile, Mega lazed about, playing the game like he did this every day.

Beeps of video game fighting filled the room with the only other noise being the water pot boiling water and Zelk's sounds of concentration.

"Damn it!" Zelk shouts when Mega's character defeats his easily, throwing his controller on the couch cushion beside him. Mega rolls his eyes and goes to shut off the PlayStation. Zelk crosses his arms like a child and puffs out his cheeks, refusing to talk to Mega.

The water pot shuts off when the water is done boiling, and Mega walks over to the counter. "Zelk?" He calls out softly. Zelk turns to him with defiant eyes. "What tea should I drink?" The young teenager sits down on a barstool, browsing through the bags.

The Tiger Hero marches over to the counter sternly and looks through the tea selection. "Jasmine," he says stiffly, turning away. Mega slaps his shoulder playfully before taking the bag of tea leaves and spooning half a tablespoon of the leaves into his mug.

"Technoblade seems to be getting a fanbase," Mega noted, slowly pouring the hot water into his cup and watching as the water turns a pale yellow upon contact with the blend.

Zelk whipped around sharply. "What?! That madman?" He cries out in disbelief. Mega raises his tea to his lips and blows gently, maintaining eye contact with Zelk, eyes unimpressed. "Do you not use Twitter?" He drawls below blowing on his tea again.

Zelk leans against the countertop with a loud groan. "God, it's 'cause of that stupid pink hair, right?" He complains, sliding into a bar stool. "They find it attractive or something. They don't actually care about whatever he says. He's just attractive to them,"

Mega stays silent, but he dips his head just barely in a nod. "I don't know, but that's probably one of the reasons," he whispers, lifting his mug and taking in a tiny sip of tea cautiously. The hot liquid burns, so he puts it down for it to cool some more.

"There's some that care about his motives, but jeez, do they not care for the victims' families?" Zelk moans, burrowing his face in his hands. Mega nods with a dark look. "Absolutely ridiculous,"

The teenaged hero takes another small sip of tea, finding that it has cooled a little and drinking some more. The gentle fluid soothes his stinging throat and subdues the pain into near nothing. With a small satisfied sigh, Mega gulps down another mouthful of the jasmine tea.

Zelk reaches over to a cupboard (curse those long arms, Mega thinks) and snatches up a small packet of crackers. He plays with the packaging, running his fingers down the rickety plastic. The small sound of plastic crinkling fills the room, the two heroes deep in thought about the rising group.

**———**

_ **r/technoblade has been created.** _

_For those who are interested in keeping up with Technoblade, the infamous villain roaming the United States._

**———**

"Thank you so much for the five-month sub, _Serendipity01_, holy shit! Can we get to 25k subs?" Tommy drawls out, taking the camera and bringing it closer to his face and staring intensely at the camera. A long, awkward pause ensues, and the familiar alert of a Twitch sub rings. Tommy leans back sharply, a huge smile crossing his face and eyes flickering off-screen to look at his monitor. "Pog!" He cries out excitedly. "Thanks for the one-month sub, _polarinds_!"

Tommy grinned at his camera with a genuine smile. It was hard managing the channel, being only fifteen (almost sixteen) and managing a 23 thousand subscriber Twitch channel. The interactions he gets with fans make up for it, however.

"Thanks a lot for the fifteen dollars, _polarinds_," Tommy turns to his monitor, his smile stretching bigger as the voice starts to read the donation message. "What's your opinion on Technoblade?" He felt his smile fall almost instantaneously and he could almost hear the clips being made of his reaction.

"I don't like talking about major villains," Tommy admits, looking down with a frown. "They upset me. Although I'm most probably safe because I'm in Britain, but so many of you are American and in danger right now. You know where I'm coming from, right?"

He reaches over to his Jschlatt Herotooz and holds it up. "And also because Jschlatt's there," Tommy jokes, trying to lighten up the stream. "I'm just kidding, chat. You're more important. Or are you?"

Tommy snickers half-heartedly. The tension in the room is almost unbearable. The chat has stopped spamming emotes and text and the messages going by slower than usual. A long pause starts, with Tommy fiddling with the little plastic horns on the Herotooz and nervously glancing up once in a while.

A donation sound rings out again. Tommy perks up, glancing at his screen. "Pogs in the chat, boys!" He cries out, clapping his hands together. "Thank you _polarinds_ again for the $50 dono! Jesus Christ!"

"Sorry for making it awkward lol, have more money you Jschlatt stan," the robotic voice reads out the donation message. Tommy visibly fumes, puffing up like a hamster. "I'm not a stan!" He denies profusely, slamming his hands on the table and bringing his mic to his face. "Chat, shut up! I'm not a stan!" He says the last bit with a replication of Jschlatt's signature funny mic.

_"Stop making fun of me, chat. I'm not a stan!"_

**———**

** _technoblad3stan__ **

_what if heroes were actually good at their job... haha, jk... unless???_

_23287 notes_

_#blood for the blood god #im done with this shit #americantrash #technoblade #american heroes be like_

**———**

Spifey was proud of himself, to say the least. With so many heroes on the list, it's a wonder and a miracle that he made it this far. With the help of Skeppy, he managed to gain an insane amount of public support and recognition.

The pro hero was recognized nationally as one of the fastest rising heroes since Philza's rise from the hundreds to the top ten. Not to brag or anything, but that's pretty damn good.

Spifey fetches a key from his wallet and jams it into the keyhole, twisting it to unlock the door. Looking around, he slips in, hoping he didn't meet any obsessive fans that would spread his residence.

When the closes the door behind him, he hears TapL filming a video through the walls. The clicking of the keyboard signifies that the YouTuber had forgotten to close the door yet again. Spifey rolls his eyes and strolls down the hall lazily, peeking into his roommate's room.

TapL was playing a Hypixel game (SkyWars was the name, Spifey thought) and commentating as he played, the mouse clicking being heard rapidly. Spifey casually walks into TapL's room and plops himself in a beanbag comfortably, looking around. TapL always had the coziest room out of the three, after all.

The Beaver Hero assumes the YouTuber finished his game because he twirls around in his chair and shoots a death glare towards Spifey. Meanwhile, the hero wasn't even focused on TapL, instead looking through a small selection of snacks on a cabinet. He lifts his gaze, staring with blank eyes towards TapL, and reaches up to take a bag of barbecue chips.

The two stared at each other. Spifey was sure that if this was a cartoon, there would an electric bolt connecting their eyes. TapL shakes his head slowly as Spifey rips the bag of chips open.

TapL slowly drags his index finger across his throat and turns back to the computer screen. He continues filming his video, but tenser. Spifey makes sure to eat his chips as obnoxiously as possible.

"If you guys hear any background noise, it's my roommate," TapL says into his mic, starting up a new game. Spifey makes it clear by punctuating the air with a big crunch.

TapL visibly winces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending the chapter on a nicer note than usual.
> 
> https://imgur.com/tXkXrLJ <- this amazing fanart was made by @/dovedrawsstuff ! go follow her or check her out on instagram!


	8. Arc Two: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's like that fuckin' Ted Bundy obsession back when the internet was just emerging. They're obsessing over a goddamn killer!"

**———**

** _Posted to r/unpopularopinion by u/mplily._ **

_Unpopular opinion: Technoblade is not that bad._

_8.3k upvotes_

**———**

“Y’know, Travis,” Cscoop drawls out, laying his battered right hand on the countertop as it healed under the effects of Traves’ quirk. “I’ve been seeing a lot of Technoblade recently,”

“Mhm,” Traves nods, fetching some medical tape from the first aid cabinet just in case his quirk didn’t work fully and Cscoop’s hand required extra precautions to be taken. He prepared for another one of Cscoop’s long rants. They would be convincing if they weren’t littered with harsh profanities.

“It’s like that fuckin’ Ted Bundy obsession back when the internet was just emerging. They’re obsessing over a goddamn killer! I don’t care about his fucking motives if he’s gonna kill innocents like that. Absolutely disgusting. But, I mean, that’s how the fucking internet is gonna be, eh? Thirsting after anyone who they find remotely attractive. Fuck, they’ve got shit for brains,”

In his ranting, Cscoop’s hand began to shake with anger and move around to add emphasis to his words. Traves grabs his wrist and pushes it down lightly back to the marble countertop.

“Maybe a lil’ less harsh?” Traves suggests. “And stop moving your hand. You’re gonna slow the healing,” he adds, putting down the roll of medical tape.

Cscoop took a deep breath, running his good hand through his blond hair and bringing them down to clasp at his neck, where a pair of gills were. “You’re right, sorry Travis,” he apologizes, running his fingers down the gills. “It’s just that- ugh. I feel so bad for the victims and their families. No one’s going to end up hearing this, so why bother ranting?”

“You can rant,” Traves reassures the Aquatic Hero, checking over Cscoop’s right hand once more. “I understand. Your pinky is healing a little slower than the rest, so I’ll just put some tape around that. Should be okay in one or two days,”

“Thanks, Travis,” Cscoop smiles tiredly as Traves wraps a strip of medical tape around the nearly-healed finger. “I think I’m going to go take a nap after this. Can you bring my gift to Ted? It’s in the closet.”

“Sure thing, buddy,” Traves gives his friend a thumbs up. “I’m sure he’ll love the present,”

“Thanks, man. You’re the best,”

**———**

** _angel (@toxxxicsupport)_ **

_Anyone who supports Technoblade is an inconsiderate bastard. Don’t support a terrorist, guys._

_56k likes, 12k retweets_

_—_

_ **stan technoblade (@rather_not_be_here)** _

_as much i love angel’s movies and her in general, her opinions about techno were so wrong like i cant—_

_215 likes, 32 retweets_

—

_ **sausage (@s4usagerr0lls)** _

_@rather_not_be_here ik right lmaoo,,, anyone who hates techno is just another contributor to the corrupted society and thats the tea_

_58 likes, 3 retweets_

**———**

Wilbur strummed his guitar, his fingers flying up and down the fretboards so fast that he knew it was going to be a blur in the fan cams when they were posted to Twitter and Instagram. He sang the lines of Jubilee Line, one of his most streamed and well-known songs. The fans were respectful enough to stay quiet when they weren’t supposed to.

“_I hate to see you leaving..._”

Wilbur closed his eyes to concentrate on the song. His voice was great today- loud, clear, but still gentle even with the enhancing of the microphone. The tunes of the guitar was like heaven, and he made no mistakes even with the advanced fingerpicking the song required. He wasn’t using quirk on his audience- he would never, and his fans know that.

“_A fate worse than dying..._”

The fans suddenly started screaming, though the words were so mixed up in the words of the rest of the audience that it was incomprehensible. Maybe they were just excited.

“_Your city gave me asthma, so that’s why I’m fucking leaving,_”

Wilbur continued despite the loud screaming. Every time this happens, without fail, it’s nothing.

“_Your water gave me cancer and the-_“

“Wilbur Soot, look away!”

“-_pavement hurt my _feelings-?”

A voice enhancing quirk cut through his singing. A shrill, probably teenage girl screamed the words out. Wilbur, annoyed that some obsessed fan would use a quirk to her advantage, and opened his eyes to shoot the section that the voice came from an unimpressed look, and opened his eyes to a bright, eye-bleeding red.

Wilbur blinked.

His fingerpicking stopped and he turned his head sharply. There was a small throb at the base of his neck from the sudden movement, but he stepped off his stool to stare. The stadium was deathly silent because everyone knew that someone had just tried to shine a laser pointer into Wilbur’s eyes.

Wilbur’s breathing quickened, his face turning dark. How many times do he and Poki have to tell their fans that they’re not rivals? Some rabid fans of Pokimane’s probably tried to sabotage his concert without knowing the dangers of a laser pointer.

Regardless, he resumed his fingerpicking, wincing at a buzz the strings made when he didn’t press down on them hard enough. He’s shaken after the ordeal, and everyone knows it. His voice was wavering slightly for the first few seconds (the first few seconds that lasted way too long, way too still).

The laser pointer refocused on his face, the bright red dot standing out against the white and black colour scheme. It’s trying to focus on him, but the light keeps falling behind him, right into a crowd of his own fans.

Oh, hell nah.

Wilbur stops singing, his gentle nature shifting drastically. He’s angry, with the way his eyes are narrowed and his lips curl downwards. He feels burning anger inside of him that he tries so hard to hold back, but he’s just so upset that his concert was put into shambles by such a simple yet dangerous tool.

He snaps his fingers, the sound cutting through the stiff tension. The fans start murmuring amongst themselves when the cameras cut out into a noisy black.

The face of a girl appears on the screen. She jumps, pulling a book up to her face frantically, her blond hair flopping about. As they disappear behind the thick book. Despite this girl’s best efforts, no one misses the flicker of red flying to hide behind her back.

Wilbur notices the rising amount of rioting fans as they realize who destroyed their precious Wilbur Soot’s concert. They scream, shout, and yell at the blondie who is shaking behind her book. Wilbur can barely see her through the mess of arms grabbing at the girl, leaving long scratches on her body.

“Stop!” Wilbur calls out angrily. The girl is trembling violently, her unnaturally green eyes peeking out above the mock safety of her pages. It’s almost pitiful, with the way drops of blood leaks from her cuts and scratches, and the guitarist would feel bad if the girl wasn’t starting to change.

The girl screams out, her voice rising to quirky pitches. The crowd around her jump back, dashing away when the girl’s eyes go dark, a monster breaking out of the shell of the skin like a chicken hatching from its egg. A mass of blood and flesh is covering the gory creature, who is on all fours, hissing and dripping red on the stadium’s velvety black floors.

Is that a quirk or a human experiment result? A rebirthing quirk, perhaps? Either way, it's fucking terrifying.

The strange, putrid creature curls its bloodstained claws around the railings, letting out shrieks and snapping at the ones around it. It scrambles over the protective railings, diving headfirst onto the stage. Wilbur’s eyes are only wide as the corpse-like entity crashes into the ground, its neck cracking loudly and splitting across the floor.

The entity staggers to its feet, it's head dangling by just a thin slice of flesh. It turns its bloodshot eyes in Wilbur’s direction, who runs a finger down the strings of his guitar almost experimentally, carefree and seemingly oblivious.

It crawls forward, a disgusting smack sounding each time the feet hit the ground. It opens its bloody mouth, revealing a set of human teeth, and snaps at Wilbur as it leaps through the air.

The sound is sickening- the thump of the guitar brought down on the entity which completely shatters the fragile bones of the body’s back. Shards of bone hit the ground, the creature shrieking in agony as Wilbur raises his guitar again to end what seems to be an irreversible result of a quirk.

Those bright green eyes are what make the guitarist stop in his tracks. Those eyes that are trying to blink blood out of the sensitive area, those eyes that still remind him of a human.

Wilbur almost refrains from murdering the creature right there.

Almost.

Crack!

**———**

_“The diary of the sixteen-year-old girl who disrupted Wilbur Soot’s concert last night reveals obsessive entries surrounding infamous villain Technoblade, the latest entry being her motivation to kill Wilbur Soot after watching a repost of a video Technoblade filmed of his attack on a shopping mall.”_

**———**

The Trio was exactly what it sounded like- a trio of top-ranking heroes consisting of number two hero Skeppy, number eleven hero BadBoyHalo, and number twelve hero A6D. They used to be like the Wild Wild Pussycats, operating as a group, until Skeppy announced that he was leaving the Trio and becoming a solo hero. After leaving, he quickly rose through the ranks after leaving and reached Netherite rank in no time.

Without Skeppy, the Trio couldn’t operate well anyway, so they officially disbanded and went to follow their own careers. They were still good friends and were the Trio was still highly thought of to this day.

BadBoyHalo wants to finally earn his Netherite plaque, but he didn’t know how. Every monster he defeated, the Netherites would defeat two. Not to mention Dream and his insane appeal ratings. Even if BadBoyHalo magically got a higher villain count that Dream, he would still be number eleven.

Not to mention, Dream was still at least thirty villains ahead, so he can dream on.

BadBoyHalo munches on a blueberry muffin annoyedly. If Dream gets injured and is forced to go on a break, Bad may stand a chance. The Oven Hero lounges on his chair as he finishes his baked goods.

Leaving a four dollar tip, he left the café, pulling a pair of sunglasses over his face. He gets recognized more than usual now. As much as he likes to interact with fans, it gets irritating.

Bad turns the corner to see a huge chunk of concrete flying straight at him. He yelps and leaps to the side, the concrete slamming into the wall of a corner shop.

“Haw haw haw!” A villain laughs, ripping more concrete out of the ground and lobbing them at civilians. “Now that the heroes are enamoured with Mr. Technoblade, they all forget about the rest of us..! Why did it suddenly get really hot here?”

Bad yawns and steps to the side to avoid a small chunk of rock flying about. He saunters up to the villain with a sweet smile. The villain is sweating hard, but Bad is barely affected.

“Die!” The villain roars, grabbing onto another piece of concrete, but collapses before he can. Bad lifts the hammer from the villain’s head and tucks it into his little backpack.

“Well, that was quick,” Bad hums, switching his quirk off instantaneously. The air around him changes in temperature, dropping back to a lower temperature immediately.

The police are starting to arrive, and Bad speed-walks away before he is recognized.

“BadBoyHalo?!”

Darn.

Why can’t he go three seconds without being recognized by these stans? Can’t he just get some peace for once? Regardless, he puts on his best smile and turns to face the crowd of fans.

A knife zips past him, barely missing his ear.

**———**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @/rin_9036 on Instagram has drawn some beautiful fanart for this story! Check it out and also check them out please!  
https://imgur.com/mhSv31D


	9. Arc Two: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad thought he was a moderately skilled hero. He’s number eleven in the hero rankings, a status that many can’t even picture to match. Although his quirk was arduous to control and manipulate effectively and it wasn’t the most powerful, his melee combat ability was that to fear. Paired with the extreme heat of his quirk, most villains don’t stand a chance.
> 
> As much as he likes to think this, he must admit that there are those that are faster than him.

**———**

_ “BadBoyHalo is attacked by a mysterious person.” _

**———**

Bad thought he was a moderately skilled hero. He’s number eleven in the hero rankings, a status that many can’t even picture to match. Although his quirk was arduous to control and manipulate effectively and it wasn’t the most powerful, his melee combat ability was that to fear. Paired with the extreme heat of his quirk, most villains don’t stand a chance.

As much as he likes to think this, he must admit that there are those that are faster than him.

Another knife speeds past Bad, rattling to the ground behind him. He feels a warm liquid trickle down his right cheek, and he grimaces when the piercing ache starts to really come into effect. The girl appears to be thrilled to have ultimately hit her mark, though it only had hardly sliced Bad’s cheek.

_ Still not fast enough _ , Bad thinks to himself. _ You’re not fast enough. Wake up, Bad. You’re better than this. _

The teenaged looking girl draws yet another blade from behind her back, this one smaller but rough and jagged. “Hee hee! I’ve already drawn your blood, but you can’t even put a scratch on me!” She ridicules. _ She has a thick Norwegian accent _, Bad marks. 

The girl is costumed in a painfully bright mint green onesie. Two catlike ears curve on either side of her head, and a fox-like tail protrudes from her tailbone area. Her brown hair, bordering on black, falls out the side of her pulled-up hood in two long locks, curling slightly at the tips. 

Bad has no time to jot down her appearance, however, because she throws her knives hard and racing. This one rushes past him, barely missing. The breeze from the firm throw blows back Bad’s hood.

“Aww, I’m out of knives,” the crazed girl sulks. Bad feels a wash of relief surge over him, but he learns to not drop his awareness so quickly when the girl reaches in a pocket and snatches up a handful of sharp darts.

“Y’know, BadBoyHalo,” the girl smirks, spinning one between her index and middle finger. “I’ve never missed a bullseye in my life, but then again, I’ve never had a moving target,” her smile widens, if even possible, showing all of her jagged teeth in a sinister grin. “Would you like to be my first?”

Bad blinks in surprise. 

He hears a thud behind him. When he turns, there’s a dart, settled into a tree trunk all the way to the handle. 

Instinctively, Bad springs to the side and two more darts plant into the tree, grazing against the others in a neat cluster in the center. Bad’s sent racing around, darts hunting his every step. Each move he makes, he strives to close the distance between the girl and him. 

The hero lifts his hammer to bring down on the girl, who has finally halted her dart-throwing to recognize just how close he was. Bad grips his hammer tight, shuts his eyes and swings down.

Nothing.

There’s nothing there.

An explosion deafens him, prompting him to jump backwards in shock. The girl’s on the ground, cursing and grasping one of her darts by the tip. A smoking stone lies just by her face, and Bad turns to see the number two hero squatting on a tree branch.

“Skeppy, I was about to-“

“Just go away! I’ll finish this up!” His so-called “best friend” snaps at him, flicking another rock at the girl, who rolls to the side and hurls a dart right back, to which Skeppy effortlessly evades. “If you were any good, you would’ve defeated this girl a long time ago. Just leave!”

Bad opens his mouth to protest but instead rolls his eyes in exasperation and retreats. In battle, the top ten heroes really are monsters, both in skill and in personality. 

As he stalks away in anger, a nearby bush blasts into orange flames. 

**———**

_ “Skeppy defeats a villain easily, as expected of him as the #2 hero.” _

**———**

“Please,” Jschlatt snorts, leaning back in his seat as he eyed the number two hero on the screen in revulsion. “I bet he just stole someone else’s prey again,” he drawls out, picking at his utensils before stabbing a baby carrot with a fork. 

“Don’t watch TV during dinner, stupid,” Wilbur slaps Jschlatt across the head. The pop star glances around before leaning down to murmur in Jschlatt’s ear furiously. “She’s here. Don’t do that while she’s here!”

“Sorry, man,” Jschlatt shrugs, pushing Wilbur away. “Well, she’s in your room right now, so I don’t think she heard that. You’re so enamoured with her though, it’s fuckin’ hilarious,”

“What’s hilarious?” Came a small female voice down the hall. Wilbur whips around and breaks into a wide, gentle smile. “Niki!” Jschlatt watches his best friend stride towards the German streamer and lingers at her side.

“What’s hilarious, Wil?” Nihachu echoes with wide, inquisitive eyes. “Ah, just a confidential case someone asked us to complete,” Wilbur provides hurriedly, shooting a death glare towards Jschlatt, who simpers mischievously. Maintaining his eyes on Wilbur, the number three manipulates the gold hovering around him to form a small golden heart. 

“I see,” Niki hums, sitting down on a sofa daintily. “Good luck with that, Wil, you’ll do great!” 

Jschlatt watches his best friend melt on the inside.

**———**

_ “Slimecicle goes back into action after weeks of healing and defeats a B-class villain.” _

**———**

“Philza! Philza! Can I pleeeaaase get an autograph?” 

“Sure! What’s your name?” Philza gives a soothing smile to the thirteen-year-old girl, who gasps out in excitement. With shaky hands, the girl takes out a black Sharpie and a bright hot pink backpack. “E-Emily!”

“Oh, this is a cool backpack!” Philza compliments, taking the items with a gentle smile. He uncaps the Sharpie with one hand and hoists the backpack up with the other.

“Th-thank you!”

The Survival Hero chortles and proceeds to sign the backpack right on the front pocket before noticing a signature in green and one in orange. “Oh, you got Mega and Zelkam’s signature too! Hahaha!” He exclaims. “Am I next in the collection?” He scribbles down his signature and leans down, returning it to the girl. “Who’s your favourite hero?”

Emily breaks into a dreamy grin and titters in a high-pitched tone, twirling her red locks around her finger. “Don’t judge me, okay?” She squeals. 

“I won’t!” Philza assures, crouching down to be on the girl’s level. He straightens his telltale bucket hat to cover the bright sunlight and pauses to listen for Emily’s answer.

”Technoblade!”

Philza’s smile drops. 

The teenage girl is weighing herself on the balls of her feet, her arms tucked behind her with a sly smile on her face. “After all, he’s helping the world. Doesn’t that count as a hero?” Emily utters, and Philza feels a cold shiver course down his spine. 

“But he kills people,” Philza tries, tilting his head. “That’s evil, didn’t you know?” Emily simply throws her head back, her red curls bouncing about, and breaks into a horrendous howl of laughter, one that borders on bursts of shrieks rather than the innocent chuckle of a soon-to-be teenager.

“He only kills bad guys!” She dismisses after bringing her head back again. “Look what I did for him!” 

Emily opens her mouth in a wide, toothy grin. Philza’s eyes widen in horror at the sight, his jaw going lax and his eyes blank and staring. This girl, a thirteen-year-old child, already knew of Technoblade’s endeavours and supported it. Philza couldn’t believe his eyes, but the sight in front of him was so convincing. 

Each one of Emily’s teeth was seemingly cut and filed into fine, sharp fangs. The failures are evident, with most teeth being awfully filed and with cuts and scratches on her gums, seemingly fresh and dripping. 

“E-Emily,” Philza stutters. “Where are your parents?”

The girl giggled again, a shrill one that Philza knows will inhabit his nightmares. Her pale cheeks fade into a rosy pink, almost like the blossoms of blood. “Them? You don’t need to know! Hahaha..! S-stop being nosy!”

**———**

_ “Philza captures a thirteen-year-old girl who had murdered her parents two weeks ago.” _

**———**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 3/24/20: I am idiot and forgot to add fanart... lovely fanart by @Cryrz_ on Wattpad here! https://imgur.com/KqulX3P  
EDIT 3/35/30: I AM IDIOT AND PUT THE WRONG NAME IN


	10. Arc Two: Part Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, readers! It's meant to be a filler. I hope you enjoy regardless!

**———**

_ Posted to _ ** _r/technoblade_ ** _ by _ ** _u/WereFish_ **

_ why technoblade is the best person to happen to 2068 _

-

_ -6 upvotes, _ ** _u/Cryrz_ **

_ You guys are sad. I came to this subreddit because I thought it was people reporting on incidents on Technoblade, but here you are worshipping him like some god. Do you know how the family of the victims feel? _

_ Source: my close friend was caught in the August 6th Mall Attack. Her body was filmed by Technoblade along with many others and posted on YouTube. _

_ But of course, you won’t understand until it happens to you. _

_ \- _

_ 4 upvotes, _ ** _u/TooFfion_ **

** _u/Cryrz_ ** _ lol too bad for ur friend then... but technoblade’s still valid :clown: :clown: _

**———**

“There’s been a ton of Technoblade fans attacking heroes recently,” Dream mumbles tiredly through his mask. “I’m guessing you’re one?” 

He scowls at the boyish teenager wearing unbelievably revealing clothing standing before him who simpered at him with an uneasy gaze. It appeared to be bordering on suggestiveness, Dream marked. He brushed it off as some crazed fanboy, seeing this teenager to not be a big deal at all.

“You’d be correct, Dreamy Dream,” the boy rolled the name off his tongue like butter. Dream cringed at this nickname, stepping onward, wisps of green vapour starting to twist around his arm, climbing up his forearm like a snake writhing about.

Looking up and down the boy’s body, he sucked in a breath through his teeth. Isn’t this freak cold? It’s early winter and it wasn’t warm in any sort. The little clothing this boy bore worried him.

“Be damned,” Dream grumbles. The mint coloured smoke began to roar and swirl around, sweeping up the dead leaves on the cracked pavement. Wind added onto the already cold weather and the hero felt a little bad for the boy in this temperature. A little.

The boy opens his lidded eyes and emits a shriek as Dream lets the gas consume him. To Dream, it was just a flurry of green smoke, but to this poor teenager, it was thousands of filthy cockroaches creeping up his body, nipping at his bare skin.

With a cruel smile, the hero races forward, crashing through the smoke with a pair of handcuffs ready grasped in his fist.

———

_ “A shocking turn of events happens when Dream tries to apprehend a villain.” _

**———**

"Haha! Hahaha! AHAHAHA!" Finnster howls and barks with laughter, doubling over and seizing a ledge on his cabinet to steady himself. "Holy shit! Oh my god, what the fuck?! Hahaha!" Finnster wheezes, tears slipping out the corners of his eyes.

Dream seethes with embarrassment and brings his mask closer to his face, hoping it would hide the fact that his cheeks were a brilliant crimson. "It's not funny," he mumbles.

"It totally is,"

Dream glowers at his friend. Of course, it was to anyone who wasn't Dream himself. He thought he had it in the bag. A puny brute only there for the sole purpose of boosting his reputation and rank. How mistaken he was.

One trait all of the Technoblade supporters shared was that if they decided to go rogue and become a villain, they were all a pain in the ass to handle. Wilbur Soot had his concert shaken after the monster girl showed up. Philza had to hunt Emily for almost half a kilometre due to the girl's speed quirk. BadBoyHalo visibly struggled with the dart-thrower before Skeppy showed up.

So of course, Dream was foolish to underestimate the boy that showed up insisting he was another one of these fans.

The boy himself was trivially easy to take down, but the sheer chaos he had caused in the ten seconds he was free terrified Dream. One second, the illusionist had a cloak covering his entire body. The next, his cloak was reduced into threads along with half of his shirt, and if Dream didn't snap the quirk-restraining handcuffs around the teenager's wrists in time, he was sure he'd be standing without practically any clothes, just like the villain himself.

"You wouldn't be laughing if it happened to you," Dream sneers, hitting Finnster with his mask and then hastily placing it back into place. Finnster yelps before breaking into a devious snicker once more. "Oh, but it didn't happen to me," he beams. "That's why it's funny.

Dream crosses his arms and paces away despite Finnster's protests that Dream faces him "like a man".

_Goddamn it, Technoblade. Please just get caught before this happens again._

**————**

** _jordan bought the ZELKAM HEROTOOZ (@simplyskipper) _ **

_ d-did anyone else see those new dream photos circling around _

_ 1.3k likes, 394 retweets _

**————**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://imgur.com/S6AEhL1  
This stunning fanart was drawn by @ anxioustina on Wattpad! Go show their stories some love!


	11. Arc Two: Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Traves is inclined to agree with Cscoop’s statement. Of course, who wouldn’t? It’s one thing to thirst after a mass murderer. It’s another to obsess and attempt to be him.

**** [fanart](https://imgur.com/NWAQzLJ)

**———**

_ “Not one, not two, but ten Technoblade supporters participate in a suicide bombing of [REDACTED] Central Park, killing just short of 50.” _

**———**

“That’s fuckin’ disgusting,” 

Traves is inclined to agree with Cscoop’s statement. Of course, who wouldn’t? It’s one thing to thirst after a mass murderer. It’s another to obsess and attempt to be him. “I don’t understand people who support him,” Traves utters under his breath. “I really don’t. I hope they get a therapist. I hope they are okay,” he sinks back in his chair, almost falling off and causing Cscoop to muffle a chortle.

“They obviously aren’t,” the blond says nonchalantly. “I mean, we’re on a planet with seven billion people. There are some sickos here and there,” Traves winced at the harsh nature of the comment but dipped his head in shameful agreement. 

“Totally maniacs,” Cscoop remarks bitterly, taking a sip from his coffee and then making a face. “I forgot to put sugar in this,” he explains when Traves looks at him with concern. His friend let out a little “ah” in understanding and pulled his Shiba hoodie hood over his head.

“This sucks. Ted's out of commission for at least another few months so we’re already in a hole,” the Aquatic Hero sighs, fetching a sugar packet from the cabinet and tearing it open. Traves mumbles something incomprehensible, glancing away. Cscoop appears to have noticed this. “Hey, I wasn’t saying the rest of us aren’t competent!” He defends. “I’m just saying there’s a surge of villains now and we may need help- who knows what will happen?”

**————**

** _r/Technoblade_ ** _ is now a private subreddit. _

_ \- _

_ Posted to _ ** _r/Technoblade_ ** _ by _ ** _u/iGalaxz_ **

_ Hello everyone! Galaxz, r/Technoblade owner here. _

_ I know many of you live in the United States, so I will just come out and say it- on November 6th at exactly 12PM, we will be rioting/protesting against heroes at this location. We will be meeting at the [REDACTED] Park and then protesting at the shopping square. _

_ We need to make sure everyone knows heroes are unreliable and worthless. Spread this to anyone else who you know would be interested. Share it on Twitter or other social media but keep it on the down-low so no heroes will suspect anything. _

_ I hope to see many of you here. _

_ \- _

_ 65 upvotes, u _ ** _/[deleted]_ **

_ I can make it! I may be late for a few minutes, but I can definitely make it. My friend can as well. _

**————**

“Welcome everybody! We’re doing a Just Chatting stream today,”

Tommy’s face lit up at his viewers’ enthusiasm. He had a lower viewer count than usual, dropping from the average twenty-six thousand to twenty-four thousand. It didn’t matter, though, as the people who were watching were happy and ready to ask questions.

“Hm,” Tommy hums. Thunder boomed from outside his window, making him flinch. “The past few days have been rather stormy here in England, eh?” He chuckled, reaching over his monitor to look outside the window. “There’s no way you guys can’t hear that racket,” he concludes. 

The streamer slides back into his seat and scrolls through his chat. “Uh, what did you do for your birthday?” Tommy reads out and promptly puffs out his cheeks. “It was MONTHS AGO, man! Get on the trend! Anyway, I streamed and then went to a restaurant with-“ his words were cut by a crackle of lightning, followed by thunder. Tommy rolls his eyes at the interruption.

A donation sound effect made him perk up and read off his monitor. “Dude! Thank you so much for the five pounds, PrinterTimes! Much appreciated,” he leans in to read the donation text on the screen.

“‘I feel like something bad is going to happen’?” Tommy reads out loudly and clearly, as he always does. The teenager‘s face drops, and he rests his chin in the palm of his hands. “Well, with the current situation of the world, with the terrorist attacks an’ all, something bad is going to happen,” he reasons, unsure if the words he spoke would get him banned off Twitch or not. 

“We’ll just have to wait and see, I guess?”

**————**

The InvadedLands Hero Agency was well known as one of the most trusted hero agencies, with heroes such as Mega, Zelkam, and most importantly- Skeppy, the number two hero. Every aspiring hero wants to train there, wants to be mentored by heroes as prestigious as them. 

Right now, those heroes were undergoing another argument.

Mega was used to these sorts of things. Skeppy would get mad, take it out on him because he knows for a fact that Mega was under his thumb and couldn’t do anything. So when the pen came flying at him, he caught it like it was second-nature, wincing when the tip stabbed at his palm, leaving an ink splotch on his hand.

Skeppy scowled at him with fire in his eyes, and Mega felt smaller than he ever was. Hidden behind his long scarf was the face of anxiety.

A flash of blue came around him, and Zelk was suddenly in front of him. His striped tail swung like a whip, signalling he was upset. He wouldn’t show Skeppy that, however, and put on a smile. “Hey, Skeppy! Why don’t you go visit Dream, or A6D, or-“ he stopped talking when Skeppy readjusted his hoodie strings and turned around, the InvadedLands feather tucked behind his ear lashing around.

“Maybe I will,” he mutters. “I need to take my mind off things when this stupid kid can’t even get his hero priorities straight,”

With that, he was out the door. Mega let out an elongated exhale and lifted his hand to his scarf pulling it down his face so he could breathe properly again. The teenager stumbles over to the tea cabinet and picks out a random tea blend.

Zelk frowns because he knows Mega doesn’t like that blend. In fact, he hated it. Many times, he had ranted on how the ingredients just didn’t compliment each other. The older hero walks over to his friend and takes the packet out of his hands disapprovingly. “You’ll end up wasting it if you drink that,” he explains, reaching over Mega to pick out a blend that Mega actually likes. 

“Oh, right,” Mega blinks and rubs his eyes. “Thanks,” he whispers, looking away hastily, ashamed he can’t even defend himself. He stares out the windows at the streets below. It’s nearly noon, and he didn’t eat a thing because Skeppy got angry so early in the morning. 

Zelkam looks down at Mega with sad eyes. “You know, we’re successful enough to make our own agency,” he mutters. He always hoped Mega would finally have enough of Skeppy’s bullshit and leave InvadedLands. But of course, every time, Mega just defended Skeppy for anything he did.

He expected it was coming with Mega lifted his eyes to look at Zelkam tiredly. “I told you already, I’m fine here,” Mega says, fiddling with the tea packet. 

“But you’re not happy, are you?” Zelkam pressures gently, sitting down on a barstool and edging closer. “C’mon, man, we really can’t stay here forever-“

“Yes, we can,” Mega responds defensively, tearing the bag open and putting it on the counter. “I’m staying here,” he said, and that was that. Zelkam sucks in a breath defeatedly but leaves it. Why can’t Mega just leave the agency and stop suffering? 

Of course, Zelkam would be long gone, but he just couldn’t leave his best friend at this place. Who knows what their boss would do? 

The clock hit twelve. The room was still silent, with Mega drinking from his tea once in a while and Zelkam still annoyed and concerned for his friend. He wished something could cut through this stark silence. His wish came true, but not in the way he expected.

Voices came from down in the streets- many, five hundred at least. Yelling, screaming, and chanting. Mega raises his head from his cup. “What’s that?” He murmurs curiously, setting his teacup down on the counter. Zelkam cocks his head in confusion and paces over to the window, peeking down.

“_ Fuck _,”

Mega gets up too, his scarf trailing behind him. “What’s up?” He whispers. Zelkam brings his face to his hands and Mega looks down into the streets. “Uh oh,” he says.

Zelkam groans and heads for the door, Mega trailing behind him tentatively. “They’re rioting. The damn Techno stans. We’re going to have to deal with this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fanart in this chapter was made by @/iGalaxz! check them out on instagram!


	12. Arc Two: Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are so many people. Mega couldn’t even believe that there were so many Technoblade enthusiasts that were willing to go out in public and make a fool of themselves. Mega scanned the area- at least 500 people out in front of InvadedLands, holding up self-drawn signs with Technoblade’s face printed out and slapped across it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im super sorry for the horribly late update! school and other stuff steered me away from this, but i wont be abandoning. no excuse other than me being lazy, but here you go anyway!

* * *

[fanart](https://m.imgur.com/a/il1GVSj)

There are so many people. Mega couldn’t even believe that there were so many Technoblade enthusiasts that were willing to go out in public and make a fool of themselves. Mega scanned the area- at least 500 people out in front of InvadedLands, holding up self-drawn signs with Technoblade’s face printed out and slapped across it. 

Mega reached up and took his mechanic mask off, tucking it in his bag. “500 people at the very least,” he says to Zelk, who bit his lip and cursed. “That- that’s a lot of people,” he grumbles, drifting to the side stiffly. “Do we calm them down?” 

Mega rolls his eyes and grabs Zelk’s arm. “Of course we have to! We have to stop them from hurting anyone! Someone could get crushed in there!” The younger hero drags Zelk all the way to the elevator, chewing on his lip. He knew it was only a matter of time before this happened and was personally investigating it, but couldn’t find the organizer or leader of this group of people. One thing he learned was that there were likely at least a couple thousand of these followers throughout the states. 

The front lobby was locked, barred down. People were hammering on the doors, yelling at innocent security guards to let them in and let them see the heroes. It reminded Mega of that one time Zelk did a fansign but was late by a few minutes, but this time the fans were here for a completely different goal. 

“Mega! Zelk! Do you know where Skeppy is?!” One of the receptionists, Lyn, shouts at them. 

“He left a while ago,” Zelk responds coolly, peeking out the windows once more. Mega watched as he took in the number of people that were here. Hundreds of people gathering for the sake of pleasing a serial killer who’s murdered tons of children and kind citizens. He’s seen people talk about him on Twitter and make fanart and edits, but to see these people in real life made his stomach twist.

“We can’t leave through the front entrance without letting them in,” Zelk reasoned, glancing around. Mega nods in agreement, making a move for the back exit. “I don’t have my scarf with me though,” he notes. “If things get too wild, I’ll have to go get it to bind up violent protestors,” 

He didn’t like to use his capture weapon on citizens. However, this time it may be necessary. 

The two pushed open the doors after making sure there were no protestors around them. Zelk was nervous, Mega was nervous. Even the strongest heroes would be nervous at this time. They couldn’t use too much force or it’d give the rioters more leverage to claim they were violent heroes, and if they were too soft then the rioters would call them bad heroes. It was a lose-lose situation.

Once they got out into the open, Zelk began to shout. “Everybody, please calm down!” His voice thundered over the nearby people. The majority were still pounding on the walls and doors, but the ones around them either stopped to glare at them or started grabbing at the two. Mega saw a flicker of flame and reached over to grab a teenage boy’s arm, stopping him from using his quirk. “No fire, please,” he murmurs. The boy seems to stand down, but Mega knows that the rest won’t be as forgiving. “Zelk, I’m going to go get my scarf,” he says quietly. “Please hold them off and keep everyone safe,”

Zelk nods and watches his friend disappear into the crowd of people, surprisingly unnoticed. Sure, a few yelled insults and hate speech at him, but Mega was gone in a flash.

“Hey, hero!” Zelk hears a screech and turns around to see a woman in her mid-twenties with long, luscious blonde hair. “Why don’t you go back into your little building and show the world how incompetent you are!” Zelk sucks in a breath sharply. The Technoblade fans around the woman begin to mutter and shout their agreement. The area was silent, though far into the distance he can still hear screams and shouts. The crowd stretched out far and wide and was a sea of people and Zelk only covered a small clearing. 

The fans were silent, letting the woman speak.  _ At least they’re polite just this once,  _ Zelk thinks bitterly. “I would, but I’d probably get my career demolished,” he chuckles. The woman cackles, covering her mouth daintily. “Aw, isn’t that sad! Well, I hope you do. No one would care! There are better heroes out there and you can’t even make it to top ten. Not that it matters, every hero’s the same. Pathetic, irrelevant, and stupid,”   
  


Zelk winces. “Hey, that kinda stung,” he says jokingly, rubbing his arm. “That’s totally not true, everyone’s cool here. Now,” he sends a strict look at the woman, who visibly shudders. “I suggest you leave the area willingly before we use force. There are people out there that may be seriously hurt, and their lives are more important than your riot,”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he messed up. 

The people around him began to glare. The woman looked triumphant like she finally had some sort of leverage over the hero. “That proves it!” She shrieks. “You all aren’t competent enough to stop us and help other citizens at the same time! You should quit!” 

The hero’s eyes narrowed and he avoided the tempting choice to roll his eyes. “Well, I can’t be at two places at the same time, can I?” He says with a friendly smile, though his eyes said otherwise. The woman laughs and looked around her nervously. “W-well, regardless, heroes are trashy, and you should give it up!”

“Yeah! Give it up! Give it up!” People began to chant around him. Zelk stood there with an unimpressed look on his face, taking the word bullets over and over again. It didn’t affect him, but he was glad Mega wasn’t here. Mega wouldn’t take it as well as he would, no doubt. 

He noticed people from the north begin to stream down the streets to come his way.  _ Probably there to mock me like these clowns,  _ he thinks nonchalantly and moves towards them, just to check if something could be the matter. He stops in front of a girl with tears streaming down her face and instantly thinks-  _ something’s not right.  _ “Is everything alright?” he asks gently, holding her up. 

“H-he-” the girl whispers, then breaks down into ugly sobs again. Zelk bites his lip and leans down so he’s at the girl’s level. “Hey, calm down, take a few deep breaths. What’s wrong?” 

Zelk’s eyes fell to a red splatter on the girl’s otherwise pristine white blouse. He felt himself go still as the girl opened her mouth to answer. “H-he- he killed my best friend!” the girl sobs, lifting her hands to catch the pearly tears rolling down her cheeks. 

  
Zelk’s eyes widened. Murder wasn’t an uncommon thing when you’re doing hero work, but it shocks him a little every time he receives news about one. “Wh-who?” he stammered awkwardly, looking around for any sight of anyone who may have committed the crime.

“H-him! God, I’m such a fucking idiot!” The girl cries, then runs off into the crowd. Zelk’s eyes flicker around, racking up who he thinks that ‘he’ may be. Until it hits him.

_ Technoblade. _

**————**

** _anne _ ** _ (@annnnnnnie0) _

_ UHM IS THAT TECHNO AT THE ANTI HERO PROTEST?????? _

**————**

There were a lot of screams when Mega finally arrived, his eyes frantic. “Where is he?” He shouts meekly through the screams at Zelk. His scarf trails behind, the bow loosely and hastily done. 

“I dunno, he must be under a disguise. His hair would stick out like a sore thumb,” Zelk mutters, ushering nearby protesters into the InvadedLands building. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, Mega sees a glint of diamond- Technoblade’s sword.  _ I found him!  _ He thinks triumphantly, but his feelings soon were crushed when the sword raised and was falling down onto the neck of a shrieking girl.

His scarf shoots out like two snakes aiming for a victim, wrapping around the handle of the sword and pulling it back. The sword is ripped from pale calloused hands. Mega reached out to snatch up the handle- his hand faltered when red blossomed throughout his green scarf.

He was too late.

Mega’s vision blurred and crimson filled his view. “No way,” he whispers, trying to focus onto Technoblade, who was wearing a cloak that was soaked with blood and dripping down to the ground. A body slumped on the ground behind him.  _ Many _ bodies laid on the ground behind him. Just how many had he killed before Mega found him. Just how many died because of his negligence?!

A harsh shoves brings him out of his thoughts, and Technoblade grabs his sword back from the bounds of Mega’s scarf. He wasn’t bothered by the bloody handle and blade. Why would he be? He was Technoblade after all.

“Aren’t you a sweet little kid,” Technoblade drawls, smirking down at Mega, who scrambled up. “Kids don’t belong on the battlefield, but you’re a hero, aren’t ya?” The man lifted a thumb and made an effort to wipe down a bloodstain on his cheekbone. The effort was proven futile when the red simply smudged across his face, painting a terrifying man.

“Get lost,” the sword rose and quickly swung towards Mega. With a split second to react, the teenage hero leapt back, the sword slashing across the air right where his chest would be.  _ He’s accurate,  _ Mega thought.  _ Deadly. _

“Mega!” He heard Zelk’s voice through the chaotic scene. “Help out the citizens, I'll handle this!” His friend arrived at his side. Zelk’s claws were out, sharp as ever. Mega gazed at his friend for a second with worry. “Okay,” he murmurs and scurries towards a crowd of teenage girls hunched over a body. After all, Mega knows better than to argue.

Technoblade leaned on his sword, planting it into the ground and putting his weight on it. “Oh? Protecting citizens? What kinda hero are you?” The terrorist mocks, his pink eyes narrowed tauntingly. “Well, you’re still a hero. Will I have to kill you too?”

Zelk growled. “You’re going down,” he hisses menacingly. He hoped he could stick by his words.

_ He hoped. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fanart in this is by @pigandciu on instagram. check em out please, theyre amazing!


	13. Arc Two: Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He and Technoblade circled each other, sort of like those TV show standoffs, each looking for an opportunity to strike. With Zelk flexing his claws, and Technoblade twirling his sword menacingly. Zelk glanced around- around forty, maybe fifty people are still outside, being ushered into safehouses by Mega. "How'd you do that twirling thing?" Zelk said slowly, keeping his pace. Technoblade's lip quirked upwards at the question.  
"You train for a few million years," the terrorist laughs without breaking his eye contact with Zelk, which bordered on a glare despite the smile pulling at his face.

[fanart](https://imgur.com/QJsHlFh)

Stan culture is shit. Zelk had accepted that for a while now. The way he can't do anything without some sort of racist undertone nowadays, the way he can't walk two steps without being filmed for a fan cam, the way he can't talk with Mega without being seen as a couple. He hated it.

But at the end of the day, they supported him. They brought him this far. And hell will freeze over until he wasn't willing to protect them.

He and Technoblade circled each other, sort of like those TV show standoffs, each looking for an opportunity to strike. With Zelk flexing his claws, and Technoblade twirling his sword menacingly. Zelk glanced around- around forty, maybe fifty people are still outside, being ushered into safehouses by Mega. "How'd you do that twirling thing?" Zelk said slowly, keeping his pace. Technoblade's lip quirked upwards at the question.  
  
"You train for a few million years," the terrorist laughs without breaking his eye contact with Zelk, which bordered on a glare despite the smile pulling at his face.

Zelk hums at that, glancing away. Around thirty people now, could he stall for a bit more before the two fought and wreaked havoc? _Hopefully, _the hero thought nervously. Technoblade watched him, intensely, sending shivers down his spine. "You gonna... you gonna do anything?" he says in a low tone.

Zelk automatically stops his movement to think for just a second.  
  
A second is all it takes for Technoblade to be at his throat with a sword ready to slice at the hero with the intent of murder. Zelk's eyes widened, not expecting the quick movement, and hops backwards just quick enough for the sword to cut through the air, the tip inches away from his chest. Reaching out, Zelk tries to rake his claws down Technoblade's neck, but the man is speedy and is ready with a counterattack of a kick in split seconds.

Zelk is sent backwards, steadying himself quickly despite the force of the kick into his chest and doing a quick scan of the area. "Twenty, fifteen," he counts down quietly as the heads of the bystanders decreased little by little, whilst also readying himself for Technoblade's next attack.

Except, where was-  
  
"Right here, nerd,"

Pain. Searing pain. Zelk instinctively clutched at his arm, hissing and spitting, blood spilling out of the deep wound. "Oh, fuck," he hisses, squeezing his eyes together. A weight hit his back, and he was pushed into the ground by a boot planting him down. Summoning all the strength he had at that very moment, Zelk pushed Technoblade off of him, stumbling but standing back up shakily. Technoblade swings his sword again, but Zelk ducks under the range of the swing and runs his claws across the villain's face.

Or, so he thought. He definitely hit the villain, but not where he intended to. Technoblade winces slightly at the three long scratches down his shoulder. "That stings. Kind of like a mosquito bite. Get it? Because it doesn't hurt. Haha!"

_Liar. _Zelk recognizes pain when he sees it, after years of helping citizens when they're hurt, he knows when someone's at their weakest.

That probably doesn't matter now though, as the sword is in his face once more, and swinging across his side like a whip.

\--------

** _Angel (@toxxxicsupport)_ **

_And that, my friends, is why you don't support a fucking mass murderer._

_562k likes, 45k retweets_

\--------

["Let go of me, you stupid kid,"](https://imgur.com/1T4abEe)

The words are snarled out with a venomous bite to it. Mega tries not to flinch, he's learned not to with threats from villains, but Technoblade is different. A dangerous villain that Mega had never dealt with before, ever. It's startling how scary someone can be just by standing there, even if they're tightly bound by the ropes of Mega's capture weapon.

Mega doesn't want to look at Zelk. His best friend is groaning on the floor, cursing quietly under his breath once in a while. Blood spills over the floor around them, and the street is empty of humans- well, alive ones, anyway. He doesn't want to look down the street, he _shouldn't _look down the street unless he wants Technoblade to escape his grasp once again.

The ends of Mega's scarf tangles around Technoblade like a python wrapping around its victim, though Mega can't help but notice that he still has his sword in his grip.

The terrorist swings out with his sword, slashing Mega's scarf to pieces. Even though the scarf was made of a strong material that's hard to cut through, the way the blade sliced through the fabric-like material like butter. It didn't bother Mega- incidents like this happen, and he was on his, what, tenth scarf? The thing that scared him was just how easy it was for this villain to render Mega's weapon useless.

Mega then noticed just how battered up Technoblade was. He and Zelk had been fighting for quite some time and Zelk did a lot of work. The man was dusted in injuries, not as bad as Zelk's but still enough to slow his movements for sure.

Speaking of the villain, where was he?

\--------

** _r/Technoblade _ ** _has been deleted._

\--------

"Spifey! Spifey! What do you think of the Zelkam and Technoblade battle? What are your thoughts?"  
  
"Spifey! Do you have any words for Technoblade?"   
  
"Spifey! Do you have any messages for the community after that shocking battle?"  
  
"Spifey!"

Spifey slammed the door behind him and slid into a bar stool, groaning loudly. Every time. Every single time there's some sort of incident, he gets bombarded with questions even when he wasn't related to the incident. It's tiring to find an answer to all of them without getting cancelled or quoted on a week or two later.

"Rough day?" TapL calls from his room.

"Yeah," Spifey sighs, rubbing at his temples.

"Great. Get me a coffee,"

Spifey shoots TapL's direction a death glare but walks to the coffee machine anyway. He snatches up one of TapL's merch mugs from the open cupboard and places it on the counter, then pouring in some cold coffee from the coffee jug.

When TapL takes a sip, he makes a face. "This is _cold_, and you didn't even put any sugar in it," he says disgustedly. The beaver hero just rolls his eyes. "Make some yourself if you're gonna give demands," he snaps jokingly, retreating from his friend's room to let him finish recording.

Spifey walks to his room, sitting down on his bed and kicking the door shut. He lies down, exhausted from a day of answering questions he didn't know the answers to. After Mega had let Technoblade go by mistake, his social media had been bombarded with hate and comments from civilians blaming him for the escape of the villain. Spifey himself had scrolled through a few of the tweets people were sending and he knows they aren't pretty. It's strange, considering those people were what made Technoblade appear in the first place. Once they realize they were wrong to thirst over someone like that, they immediately backtrack, telling everyone to not support someone they were supporting just a few seconds ago. Spifey doesn't understand how people can act like this, but it doesn't matter anyway. Now that everyone has stopped boycotting the heroes, maybe he can earn some more popularity points.

\--------

The sun starts to set over the lake, giving a beautiful reflection and scene for the two teenagers that were by it. One sat on a large rock, kicking at the small stones at his feet. The other was scavenging through said stones for flat, round ones that were suitable for skipping.

"Hey Sammy, have you heard about the big battle between Technoblade and Zelkam?" The one sitting asks, tucking his hands into his purple hoodie. Sammy lifts his sunglasses to look at his friend. "Well, who hasn't?" he drawls, picking up a stone. He throws it, flicking his wrist while doing so. The stone sails towards the lake, skipping twice.

"Well, whaddya think of it?" his friend hums.

"What do I think of it..? Weird question, Purpled. Well, I knew Technoblade was going to win from the start. Not because I fanboy over him, of course, but if he can beat Slimecicle, he can beat Zelkam. It was rather obvious, wasn't it?" Sammy responds, sitting down beside Purpled. "It's good for us though. Now that the country's shaken and scared, they won't expect a second storm to happen right after the first,"

Purpled chuckles at his words. "Poetic," he says, looking off into the sunset. "You're right though. This is what we have been waiting for. I guess we should go back to the base before Eighty gets worried,"

"For you," Sammy snorts, rolling his eyes. He gets up from his seat, stretching a little. Purpled gives him a strange look, one crossed between annoyance and a smile. "Don't say that, you know he cares for all of us equally," he protests.

Sammy just laughs and starts walking, prompting Purpled to hop off the rock he was sitting on to follow his friend. The two walked in silence, the vibe around them light and peaceful. If it were any earlier, the duo may have been chattering nonstop. However, the moon was rising, and both were too tired and couldn't be bothered to start up a conversation.

They reached a seemingly abandoned warehouse barred off from the outside world by a metal fence, which was crippling and ripped up. Sammy crossed the fence by ducking under a small opening, and Purpled follows with less luck, cutting his hand on a particularly sharp wire.

"Ouch, better get Deo to fix that up for you then," Sammy whistles when he sees the scratch down the back of his friend's hand.

"Sure. Let's just go inside, it's getting cold,"

They slowly open the door to see a man with dual coloured hair (black and white) and one yellow and one red eye. "Hey, Eighty," Purpled waves. Eighty waves back then turns away. "Follow me, Deo wants to say something,"

The three walk through the warehouse, one side to another until they come across a man with brown hair, a pair of sunglasses (even though the warehouse was dark), and a Santa hat resting on his head. "Where have you guys been? We have to be ready for the plan, you guys can't afford to be found," Deo snaps, crossing his arms.

Eighty's eyes narrowed. "They're still only children, let them have some fun," he says, glaring at Deo, who exhales annoyedly but continues. "Whatever. Get ready, because our plan is going in motion tomorrow. Let's light these orphanages ablaze."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fanart in this chapter by @prinprinter on Instagram. looks amazing, tysm!! <3
> 
> the second piece of fanart (the one linked to a line) is by @evelfor on twitter. ty!


	14. Arc Three: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The streets are near empty from the shock of the battle between Zelk and Technoblade, with only a few people walking down the streets nervously, increasing their pace whenever they come across someone else. Most were in groups of two or three. Sammy walked without a drop of fear- he didn’t have a reason to be afraid, unlike the citizens. Technoblade was too injured to do a thing and the only threat to the city was Sammy and the rest of NOLIFE themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this may be the longest chapter yet, it should be exactly 2.5k words  
enjoy :)

[fanart](https://imgur.com/RgyT8G3)

———

_ “A heavily protected orphanage was destroyed and set ablaze last night. Instead of it being Technoblade, the villain infamous for destroying orphanages, it was a group of four who were caught on a security camera. Images of the culprits are shown on the screen. Do not engage if seen, call authorities immediately…” _

———

_ Go buy more medical stuff, _ Deo had told him one day. _ We’re going to be attacking another orphanage while you’re at it _. When Sammy asked why he had to specifically, Deo had told him that anyone else would stand out too much. Deo’s eyes were too noticeable (he had cracked his sunglasses and Sammy would also have to buy a new pair). Eighty couldn’t go outside without someone pointing out his dual-coloured hair. Purpled’s eyes would also catch some attention. He was, according to Deo, the only normal-looking one out of the four. It stung, but Sammy agreed to do it anyway.

He put on a very different outfit. No sunglasses, a slightly different hairstyle, and a simple black hoodie as opposed to the fancy vest that he wore on the night they attacked the orphanage. Before he left, he slipped a black face mask onto his face. Sammy was unrecognizable unless you really paid attention, and he doubted anyone would stop and stare. 

The streets are near empty from the shock of the battle between Zelk and Technoblade, with only a few people walking down the streets nervously, increasing their pace whenever they come across someone else. Most were in groups of two or three. Sammy walked without a drop of fear- he didn’t have a reason to be afraid, unlike the citizens. Technoblade was too injured to do a thing and the only threat to the city was Sammy and the rest of NOLIFE themselves.

NOLIFE was the name that Deo had bestowed on them after Eighty had convinced him after a lot of arguing. When asked where he had gotten the name from, Eighty had remained silent and refused to answer.  
  
Eighty was good at making choices. He was clever, quick to act, and generally rather smart. He had a clear bias towards Purpled, but Sammy didn’t mind. He didn’t mind at all in fact, because he and Deo had just as close as a relationship. They’d both bonded over sunglasses at first, with Sammy curiously asking Deo why he wore his pair. Sammy wore his own because he just liked the look, and Deo wore his pair to hide his scarlet eyes. Sammy immediately felt stupid after that, but the two continued to grow closer. Purpled and Eighty had known each other way before NOLIFE was formed, and Purpled had told Sammy that Eighty had brought him up since the young age of nine. Sammy had only known Purpled for three years, so he slightly envied their relationship, but generally did not care.

Deo was a good leader. Just like Eighty, he was smart and had lightning-quick reflexes. He was a good fighter, better than all three of them, and was born to be a leader. Ambitious, confident, and encouraging. He was also an old friend of TommyInnit, who Deo thinks had forgotten him so Deo wouldn’t bother trying to regain contact despite constant teasing by the other three.

The other three, while he was busy buying medical supplies, were having fun destroying the orphanage. Sammy groaned at the thought of missing out on all the fun. 

The media seemed to think that they were some more hardcore Technoblade stans not learning their lesson the first time and coming back for a round two, desperately hoping that their lord and saviour Technoblade would give them attention before getting murdered again. Sammy laughed at the thought, but Deo had fumed at the headlines. ‘_ Hardcore Technoblade Fans Burn Down Orphanage _ ’. He remembered it clear as day, Deo’s outraged voice echoing through the warehouse. “ _ Technoblade fans?! As if! Those stupid reporters don’t know a thing, _”

Eighty had laughed carelessly, both at the articles and Deo’s reaction. “_ Calm down. Once we take it to social media, hopefully, they’ll realize they were wrong, _” he had reassured Deo. 

Sammy wanted to be the one to start the social media account, but they decided to hand the job of starting the taunting to Purpled. Sammy had been slightly upset about that, but after seeing some of the things Purpled had said, he didn’t mind much after that. Yes, NOLIFE was copying Technoblade, there was no denying that, but not because they were fans. It was because they wanted to prove that there’s nothing special about Technoblade and that anyone with half a brain could do the same things he did.

The teenager entered the convenience store and went straight to the medical supplies section, ignoring the two people in the store despite their strange looks at him. The only person other than the three customers was the cashier who looked stoned out of his mind. Sammy snickered at that before browsing the selection of supplies. He decided on a small pack of bandaids, a package of actual bandages, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide for disinfecting, painkillers, a roll of gauze, and of course a pair of sunglasses. When he brought them to the cash register, the cashier didn’t seem to care, but the two other customers gave him more strange looks. He ignored them but wondered if they would call the police or start questioning him, but luckily they didn’t. He was up to fight if the police did arrive, but Eighty had asked him to not make any scenes.

He paid for the items with a handful of bills that Deo gave him, packed them up into a plastic bag, and left the store as quick as he could without seeming suspicious. He despised wearing masks, it was uncomfortable. He wanted to get back to the warehouse as soon as he could to take it off. 

He strode down the street, coming across a television shop, one that had many screens in a shop window. Sammy was going to walk by it when he heard the reporter’s faint words.

“_ ...a teenager in a purple hoodie…” _

Sammy whirled around. There were many teenagers who owned purple hoodies, but he was curious and decided to look closer. On one of the screens, there was a photograph of Purpled with the halo of his quirk floating over his head, standing next to the fires of the orphanage they had attacked. The photo was zoomed in so much that the figure of Purpled was barely recognizable. He can barely see a silhouette behind him in the shape of Eighty and chuckles because he knows Eighty would never leave Purpled’s side in battle. 

When he enters the warehouse, it’s empty, just like he expected. It’s dark and gloomy without the presence of his friends. Sammy shuts the door behind him, hating how the only sounds are the door slamming and the footsteps that follow afterwards. Every step makes a loud tap that echoes throughout the warehouse. He walks further through the darkness and the light from the small windows that would usually shine down through the cracks of the bars are covered by stormy gray clouds. 

He turns the corner area the four of them had cleared out for their meeting area, a faded beige couch that held up better than it looked, boxes and cans of food towered beside it, and pillows piled on the carpet underneath it all. Eighty had insisted they keep the area clean and did anything he could to make it welcoming though it only was when all four of them were there.

Sammy sits down on the couch after carefully setting down the medical supplies near the pillows in an organized row. It’s comfortable, the cushions are thick and fluffy. Yet, the mood felt dampened. He pulls out his phone and opens up Twitter since there was barely anything to do but scroll through the timeline mindlessly. Purpled currently had the biggest influence out of the four, closely followed by Deo, as he was the one that posted most. Sammy hadn’t tweeted at all but still had a couple thousand followers from the first tweet that Purpled made tagging all four of their accounts. 

He sees tweets. Tweets of the sightings of the new villain group. Tweets by his own friends, tweeting out the things they’re doing and ignoring all the nasty replies they get. Sammy wishes he was there.

———

** _purpled _ ** _ (@burpled) _

_ just broke @bloodgodtechno’s massacre kill count record with @gamerboy8O and @TimeDeo LET’S GO _

—

** _Technoblade _ ** _ (@bloodgodtechno) _

_ theres three of you and one of me and that’s the only way you can beat me? pathetic. _

—

** _purpled _ ** _ (@burpled) _

_ but i thought the blood god never loses? lmfao, i think youre just bad buddy _

———

“He’s coping,” Purpled sniggers, showing Sammy the tweet. The two teenagers were sitting on the floor and leaning against the couch. Why they didn’t just sit on the couch like normal human beings, Deo didn’t know, but he chuckles fondly and ruffles Sammy’s hair, eyes twinkling. Sammy whines at this, fixing his hair the best he can to smooth it out again. 

Deo looked as Eighty eyed the two teenagers for a while, watching the two joke around and laugh, before turning and walking straight out the warehouse. Purpled and Sammy turned to stare at his retreating figure, and the three of them seeing him turn the corner and vanish from sight.

“What’s up with him?” Deo hears Purpled wonder aloud. Deo gets up from his own seat on a pillow.

“Stay here,” he tells the two teenagers before following Eighty’s trail. He knows where he was, it wasn’t the first time Eighty had walked out on them. Every single time, he went to the roof and sat there, gazing at the night sky. In the city, the stars were hidden due to light pollution. However, every time, Eighty still went up there. Deo had never bothered to follow him, but this time he thought maybe he could.

He stepped onto an electrical transformer box and pulled himself onto a windowsill, and from there it was easy. Deo put his foot onto a thick pipe and pushed himself up onto a second windowsill a floor taller than the last. He then reached for a higher part of the pipe and pulled himself forward, pushing himself up and finally onto the rooftop. It had rained barely twenty minutes ago, and Deo was surprised he hadn’t slipped and fell. He sees Eighty’s silhouette sitting near the edge, toying with a flexible dragon-shaped figure. Deo could see water dripping from the tail every time it lashed around. Of course, it was a water dragon. The type of dragon that was summoned depended on the environment, and since the weather was still quite humid, Eighty could summon a water dragon by extracting moisture from the air. It would work better if it was raining- Deo has seen the size of the dragons Eighty could form out the rainwater. However, it looked as if the small water dragon was good enough for now. It flew around Eighty, twirling around his hands and around again.

As Deo grew closer, he could see the intricate details in the reptile. The scales formed of just liquid seemed so solid. The fins sticking out the back were pale blue and spiky. The eyes had a glint of red in them. It was just water, but you could see every detail on its own.

Deo took a seat next to Eighty slowly, watching the dragon. Eighty didn’t even look at him and was also watching the animal dance in the slight moonlight. It was a full moon, and Deo half anticipated the howl of a werewolf. Life always felt like a fantasy to him. Sometimes he got out of situations so sticky and dangerous that he thought someone was writing him out. More than a few times had he been through times that had just seemed rather unreal. The life he lived felt like a story protagonist and he wondered if that was good or bad.

“They’re just children, you know,” Eighty’s quiet words broke him out of his thoughts. “They shouldn’t be fighting with us. They could get hurt. I don’t want their lives to end before they had started.”

“Purpled and Sammy?” Deo asked, then felt stupid. It was definitely Purpled and Sammy, who else would Eighty be talking about? It was no secret that Eighty cared for Purpled more than anyone.  
  
“Yeah,” Eighty answered. He finally turned to face Deo. He looked tired, worried as if someone was going jump him any second but he had no energy to fight him off. The water dragon stopped dancing and instead hovered over Eighty’s shoulder, eyeing Deo with its beady eyes. “They’re just- they’re just kids. They shouldn’t be risking their lives on the battlefield. We will get into fights, big ones, and- and- fuck, if they get hurt… I don’t want a repeat of what happened with Astelic…”

Deo winced at the name-drop. The memories of the aftermath of the incident haunted him and they would forever. Not just him, but all three. Astelic would have been- was- their fifth member if… _ that _…didn’t happen. “That incident happened when we were stupid kids. It shouldn’t have happened. We’re older now, it won’t happen again,” he assures Eighty confidently. 

“It shouldn’t have happened. But it _ did, _” Eighty pointed out sadly. The dragon dips its head in sympathy and nudges Eighty’s cheek with its head, barely wetting it. “What if it happens again?!” It was more clear than ever that more things haunted him than just the ghost of Astelic’s last words. Deo never asked what he and Purpled went through before they met Deo and Sammy. It seemed insensitive, and if Deo could break through the shell of Eighty’s mind, maybe he would know if it was or not.

Deo puts a hand on Eighty’s shoulder firmly. “Eighty, don’t worry,” he says. “Purpled and Sammy are smart, they’re strong. Sammy’s quirk at its weakest is probably stronger than mine at its strongest. They’ll be fine on their own, but trust me that I’ll never let them go on their own anyway,” 

Eighty cracked a small smile at that. “Thanks,” he hums, raising his hand and letting the water dragon sink into it, the water flowing through between his fingers and splashing onto the roof. “That really helped. You’re a good leader, y’know? I’m glad you’re in charge of us.” Eighty got up and descended from the rooftop carefully, leaving Deo staring after him. He turned back to the night sky, taking off his sunglasses to look at the city lights properly. They blinked at him, flickering and shining.

Deo reaches out for the buildings, wanting to crush them in his grip and the people along with it. They’ve done so much to hurt them. He wants to do the same back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fanart in here is made by @pigandciu on insta. it's a more eboy version of the technoblade design in this fic, thank you so much!


	15. Arc Three: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the fanart in this chapter is by @rocketeeeee on insta! its based off the villain tommyinnit au made by the discord, ty!

[fanart](https://imgur.com/a/VxOvSdB)

**———**

_purpled _ ** _(@burpled)_ **

_@bloodgodtechno fight me loser or are you scared to fight someone years younger than you?_

**———**

He awoke with a start, eyes wide, body shaking. Eighty looked around him and saw Sammy sleeping on the couch and Deo laying on the mattress beside him. He was also in a deep sleep, possibly dreaming about something nice. Eighty envied that thought and sat up, pushing himself off the mattress. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anytime soon so why bother trying?

For a few minutes, he simply paced around the room, keeping his footsteps as silent as possible and thinking. He then walked out of the warehouse and glanced around. The streets were empty, the city lights were dimmer. The only sound he heard was the crickets chirping and it somehow felt terrible.

The streets were once empty, but not when Eighty reached them. Though he was still only one, he knew the ghosts were watching. The ghosts of those he’s killed, the ghosts of those _they’ve_ killed. Whether they stared in resentment or curiosity didn’t matter to him, because he still felt less alone.

He stopped in front of a large building that anyone would recognize. White that painted the walls so pristine clean and statues of the heroes that stood pridefully on pedestals. The three feathers that stuck out the stone were wavering gently in the wind. Each of the heroes sported their trademark, Skeppy with the fake diamonds at his feet; Mega with the sculpted scarf, and Zelk with his tails and ears. They were certainly lifelike.

The wind blew harder. It only grew louder, only grew heavier. Eighty stood still- the wind seemed to evade him. The feathers were blown back, looking like they were on the verge of flying away. Eighty didn’t care. He just stared at the statues with what he knew was anger and rage because that’s what he felt about heroes. They were useless, useless since the beginning of time. If they had done their job then maybe they could have saved-

Eighty let out a shaky sigh. _Don’t blame the heroes, _the nasty little voice in his head whispered. _It’s your fault. Not theirs, yours. _He can’t find himself to respond, and his lips stayed closed.

_Roar. _The wind was roaring now, and it was so strong that despite Eighty not getting the full blast of it, he still wavered in standing. It felt almost like the force of a tornado or a hurricane. In a few minutes, it _would _be like the force of a tornado or hurricane, and his quirk would finally come into effect.

The wind calmed, but not before a dragon emerged out of it. It looked like it was corporeal, with its faded grey body littered with scales and its wings that stretched wide and eyes that stared down at Eighty. With every small step it took (limited because it pretty much took up the space of the streets), the wind swirled around it, almost like it was in fear of what it had created.

The InvadedLands building was certainly holding its ground against the wind, but the lamp posts not as much. They creaked and staggered. When they crashed into the roads, Eighty spared them a careless glance, even when the glass shattered upon impact and was caught in the wind along with pieces of trash, dust, and stubby cigarettes. He wondered what the scene looked like if anyone was watching from their windows- a man seen on the headlines and television shows standing behind a dragon-like figure that was raining destruction simply by being there.

Cars parked rather far away were starting to be pulled into the mix, as did bikes. One red car, once flashy, now scraped down by the scratches of garbage and glass, crashed into the windows of InvadedLands. More glass joined the mix, a stray piece slicing across Eighty’s cheek lightly.

He’d been simply staring for so long that it snapped him out his trance. The sting of the cut forced him into wincing, and blood pellets were blown across his face. Pushing against the wind, he raised a hand and tried to wipe the blood away. It smeared instead, smudging his nose and cheeks.

As the dragon was starting to make a move towards InvadedLands, Eighty stared with blank eyes and wondered if the ghosts were still watching. Maybe if the wind blew any harder, their spirits will start to appear. Maybe if the wind blew any harder, he’d see her again. Maybe the guilt burdening his shoulders would lift.

But that was just a dream. A dream that would never come true.

**———**

_“The InvadedLands Agency building was almost completely destroyed last night by a member of the new villain group known on social media as Eighty, or gamerboy80.”_

**———**

“What a nightmare.”

Cscoop spooned sugar into his coffee and stirred half-heartedly with the spoon. Traves nodded gravely and copied him, though carelessly. Coffee splashed over the edges of his mug and spilled onto the marble countertops. Cscoop let out a “tsk tsk” as Traves hurriedly moved to wipe the counters clean with a paper towel. He moved too hastily, however, and his elbow bumped into the mug, spilling the rest of it out. It ran into the sink and down the drain.

Traves watched the last of it drain away and groaned loudly, slumping over onto the table. His white sleeves dipped into the puddles of coffee, staining it brown, and Cscoop barked out a laugh heartily. “Lil’ clumsy today,” he remarked, his voice slightly sympathetic. His friend sighed and lifted his arms sadly. His finger slipped amongst the hot coffee and let a lingering red mark.

“As if that wasn’t obvious enough,” said Traves. “This was my second favourite hoodie,” he let out a second, dramatic sigh. He turned his eyes to his finger, burnt from the hot liquid, and touched it with his other hand’s pinky. The raw red faded away almost instantly. Cscoop eyed it in awe.

“6 years of knowing you and I still marvel at your quirk,” the blond said, reaching over with a paper towel and wiping down the counters. Traves laughs awkwardly. “Yours is cool too,” he responds. Cscoop laughs and flicked his hand lazily, and water that was dripping from the tap flew from midair as it was falling and splashed against Traves’ forehead.

“Okay, buddy. So, new villains, what do you think? We’ve only seen the quirks of Eighty and Purpled so far. TimeDeo and Sammy’s are unknown,” Cscoop pointed out. “I’m guessing they’re just as good at the other two, hm?”

Traves hums, looking away. He didn’t like discussing negative things very much but there was no getting out of a conversation started by Cscoop. His friend was persistent, _very _persistent. “Definitely,” he says at last after a rather long pause. “I think they’re going to fight Technoblade eventually. They’re both rather arrogant and neither will let the other be the bad boys in the city,” Traves adds logically. “We might just want to let them brawl it out. Obviously, we’re going to do our best to protect the civilians though,”

Cscoop snickers, leaning to the side. “Can’t let them do more collateral damage. InvadedLands was utterly destroyed, think of how much money will have to be put into rebuilding that,”

Traves hums and turns his eyes to Cscoop, shooting a strange look. “And a few people were caught in the mess and were severely injured,” he reminded his friend.

“That too.”

**———**

_Technoblade _ ** _(@bloodgodtechno)_ **

_@burpled “scared?” strange fantasies you got there, kid._

**———**

Most heroes’ dream was a world where everything was perfect. No Technoblade, no villain groups they had to worry about, just crooks and bandits served to them for points and a chance at a higher rank.

Not Dream. Not him at all. If anything, he _wanted _to fight the one that everyone feared, the one that everyone thought was the best of the best. For some strange reason, he felt some kind of deja vu whenever he had this feeling. A little strange, but Dream brushed it off. He supposed he’d feel it again when he beat Technoblade.

The year was like a video game, perhaps. Technoblade is the antagonist and the four new villains were the side bosses who distracted you from your main task. And of course, Dream was the main character. His allies, the other heroes, would drop like flies and he would be filled with a vengeance to kill the final boss. Or at least, that’d what he’d tell the reporters when the day comes. See, Dream had to look sincere. In reality, it’s not like he cared about any of those idiots.

His phone rang obnoxiously loud, and he pulled it out of his pocket. It was George, his friend who worked at a coffee shop nearby. Dream hesitated to answer, but tapped the answer button and held the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

George’s frantic voice came through. “Dream! You won’t believe it, but Sapnap’s car got sucked into that dragon thing and now it’s simply scraps!” Dream sucked in a breath through his teeth and ran a hand through his hair tiredly, continuing on his patrol. “Sad,” he says simply, pushing his mask a bit further up his face when someone passed by.

“I know, right? In my humble opinion, these new villains were much more dangerous than Technoblade, they can cause so much more damage and are probably more dangerous,” George paused to take a breath and Dream heard dishes banging together in the background. A smile pulled at the corner of his lip- was George calling him while working? “That teenager, Purpled, has a halo on his head as part of quirk… how ironic,”

“Maybe more dangerous,” Dream mused, quickly waving at a fan squealing at him. “Probably not as deadly. Technoblade kills anyone he sees,”

George lets out a long hum before answering. “The new four broke his massacre record though, by at least seven or eight. Not that it’s something to brag about!” He adds hastily. Dream could hear the embarrassment in his voice and chuckled. “Just that… I think they’re definitely more dangerous, especially when they’re all grouped up.”

Dream finds himself unconsciously nodding to his friend’s nervous words. Was George right? Technoblade seemed so incredibly deadly and intimidating to most, but it wasn’t like the new four couldn’t do the same things as him. They may not be as strong independently, but when they were all together, they were nearly unstoppable. Individually, they certainly weren’t weak either, that’s for sure.

“...Dream, are you listening?”

Dream snaps out of his thoughts. “Huh? Could you repeat that?” He says bashfully. George let out an audible, exhausted sigh. “I said that Sapnap and I would be watching the new Hypixel movie this Friday. Are you coming or not?”

“Oh, uh, sure,”

“Perfect! Now I have to go, or my boss will kill me…”

Dream murmured a lazy goodbye, and suddenly the streets were quiet again. He didn’t want to admit it, but he thought George had a point. Although Technoblade is a top priority to the heroes and has been for quite some time, Dream couldn’t help but ponder on if anyone would be taking that spot soon. Sure, Technoblade had caused many more incidents and casualties than the four new villains. However, the destruction in the few incidents the latter had caused was shocking. Shocking as in Dream couldn’t believe human beings would do things like this. Murderers aren’t a new topic, but there haven’t been repeated massacres for many years. And they thought it was fun? Judging from the social media posts, the terrorists definitely thought of the whole topic as something amusing or even funny. It was sickening, to Dream at least, and made him want to hurl. Who was he to judge someone for their hobbies, but an exception is definitely made when said hobbies are murder.

Dream stopped in his walk and stared up at the sky blankly. “Fuck this,” he whispers to nobody in particular. Maybe it was to the ghosts.


	16. Arc Three: Part Three

[fanart](https://imgur.com/6J2mhtQ)

**———**

_ purpled  _ ** _(@burpled) _ **

_ @bloodgodtechno morning! beat nolife’s record yet? :)) _

**———**

The grip on his phone tightened and it felt like he would crush the device in his fist. He gnawed on his lower lip angrily, his teeth digging into the flesh and nearly drawing blood. “Little shit,” muttered Techno, running his free hand through his pink locks. It wasn’t like he could try to beat this record either- the orphanages around the country were either guarded so heavily that even he couldn’t break through or they were destroyed. He strolled through the abandoned streets of a countryside town that he’d come across with a black backpack lined with pink. Even for someone like Techno, the area was chilling. Bugs crawled through the cracked roofs and walls of the houses and the glass of the windows was broken through. Rowdy graffiti layered over the buildings and garbage littered the roads. 

Techno had come to this lonely town at first just to visit. It was one of the few places he could walk around in without the fear of being found. After all, he really couldn’t pace the streets of Los Angeles anymore, could he? This was a good substitute, as dauntingly creepy as it was. He could almost feel the chills of any ghosts that wandered the town.

An audible crunch sounded under his feet. Techno looked down at his boots and to his surprise saw a newspaper. In this time and age? A newspaper? Out of curiosity, he stepped aside and reached down, picking it up gingerly. It dated a couple of years back and wasn’t a newspaper originating from a small town like this. No, it was one from the cities. The newspaper name was faded out, the ink simply little scratches, but the end of the headline stood boldly against the yellowed paper. ‘Girl Goes Missing After the Death of Ender Attack’.

Techno’s heard of the Ender Attack. It happened when he was in school. He remembered it clear as day, it was the talk of the city for a few days and remained as a story that parents told their kids. Many people had gone missing in the few days the villain of the attack reigned before his death, yet reappeared with no problem mere hours after they had been reported missing with no memory of where they were taken. He never bothered to look into it but he once knew a few people who had tried to do research papers on the incidents and had little luck whatsoever. It was quite a peculiar event.

Techno tossed the paper aside, watching for a few seconds as it flew into the wind and then continued on his walk. It would do him no benefit to research about it now. His school days were over for good and it was more beneficial to push away everything related to school. 

His mind shifted to the topic of NOLIFE, or what Purpled had referred to the group of idiots trying to dethrone him as. Techno felt his lip twitch upwards all of a sudden- what? Did he find the group funny in their attempts? Probably. Definitely. His face forced into a scowl (that’s more like it) and he kept walking. Who did they think they were, doing the same things he did, acting like they had a right to Techno’s trademark? They were exactly like the stupid fans of Techno’s, the ones that caused their own downfall by following him like puppies. A metal taste filled his mouth and he realized that he was chewing on his bottom lip so harshly that it drew blood. The ache fell away when he moved his teeth but the taste didn’t shake.

A rather large beetle crawled across the road in front of him, a black spot scurrying across the pavement that caught Techno’s attention. He crouched down, watching it run from one side to the other. 

He blinked, and the beetle was weakly wiggling its little thin legs. He had a stick in one clutched in his fist and it was very obvious to him what had happened. “Heh,” Techno snickered to himself, raising the stick again and driving it into the struggling bug again, putting it out of its misery with one quick and accurate jab. His gaze lingered on the carcass before he stood up again, dropping the stick and letting it clatter to the earthy ground. 

Was he pissed that the record was broken by someone who wasn’t himself? Yes, yes he was. His pride wouldn’t allow it. The bag on his back felt a little heavier as if his trusty sword was upset at Techno for betraying it with a stick. His brain was wild, wasn’t it? When he stood himself up once again, the extra weight had vanished. It was definitely just his mind tricking him into feeling things he wasn’t supposed to feel. His imagination had been fucking with him for the past few days. Every strange emotion he felt he pushed away, which turned out to be a good strategy because he forgets they exist until they resurface once more. Techno doesn’t know if this is the right way to handle things, but he doesn’t care. It certainly was the most appealing option.

**———**

_ Technoblade  _ ** _(@bloodgodtechno) _ **

_ @burpled so cocky, arent you? dyou act this way in real life too? maybe we should find out. _

**———**

When Purpled enters the warehouse again, he hears hushed talking. Not the cheerful talking he hears whenever Sammy and Deo play each other in low-quality mobile games, or when Eighty is showing off his quirk again. Instead, it’s angry with the most prominent voices being Eighty’s and Deo’s. They’re arguing, it’s clearer than ever. Purpled rolls his eyes because they couldn’t go a week without Eighty and Deo getting into some kind of petty banter (for the adults of the group, they sure acted childishly). As he moves closer, the words grow clearer and he can actually hear the sentences 

“...just children, we can’t let them go alone…”

“...even if they  _ are  _ children, they’re experienced children, they’re not going to die…”

With a pang, Purpled realizes they’re talking about him. Him and Sammy. He feels himself walk towards the voices, limiting the noise from his footsteps as much as he could. 

“But they might,” said Eighty sternly. There are two thuds on the ground following his words, as if he was stomping his feet indignantly. “Look, I trust you, both you and I know that but I’m not letting them fight Technoblade, the  _ most infamous terrorist  _ America has seen in decades, on their own!” There’s a pause for him to take a breath. “They can’t take him. We either go together as four, or we don’t go at all.”

Purpled’s lip curls. Eighty thinks that he and Sammy can’t take on Technoblade? Does Eighty know how much Purpled and Sammy practiced together? The two knew each other’s every thought and move and even Techno wouldn’t be able to take a two versus one against actual competent opponents. Sure, he’s taken on up to ten before, but against low ranked heroes that didn’t know what they were doing. Purpled knows he and Sammy were above that.

“And what,” Deo argues. “you think the government is going to look at the fight and think, ‘huh, I guess we’ll just let them battle it out?’ Hell no! They’ll intervene and as terrible as the heroes and police are, they’re not  _ entirely  _ useless,” 

He stops himself. “Okay, yes, they’re entirely useless,” Deo corrects himself before continuing. “But they have access to technology we don’t have access to. It doesn’t matter if we send one or go as four, they’ll meet us with even more numbers, plus there’s Techno-“

“If you think,” Eighty starts shakily. “that we’re going to send Purpled and Sammy off to fight like disposable troops-“

“I’m not saying that! But if there’s less of us, there’s more chance of us being caught if we all go together! They’ll pick us off before we had a chance to get away, and Techno will get off scot-free because he doesn’t have to worry about his friends being caught, he can just run.”

There’s a long pause following this. Purpled can practically feel the thinking on both sides. For a few hopeful moments, he thinks Eighty might actually be convinced, but he’s proved wrong.

“No.”

Purpled can tell Deo was as shocked as he was. “...what?”

“No, no!” Eighty repeats firmly. “I don’t care what you have to say, I don’t care what your  _ bullshit  _ reasoning is, but my answer is no. Those two are not going alone, either we all go together or we don’t go at all. That is  _ final. _ ”

There’s footsteps that go from loud to faded, then finally gone completely. One of the two had walked away, and it was pretty obvious who. Deo lets out an exasperated sigh before treading away too, and Purpled was left alone in the area. He didn’t know where Sammy was (probably taking a nap) so he couldn’t spill out everything he heard just yet. He’s just left to think. Annoyedly.

After all, Purpled knows he’s not weak. Sammy isn’t either. There isn’t a single one out of the four of them that’s weak and he’s sure of that. Did Eighty think he was weak? Did the countless duels not prove him wrong? It’s not like Purpled relies on brute strength too. He didn’t want to come off as cocky, but he wouldn’t call himself stupid either. What did Eighty expect him to do, run in front of rain of quirk-cancelling bullets? Lunge straight for Techno without any prior thinking of the other’s counters?

After all these years, did Eighty not trust in his abilities?

He feels a buzz in his jean pocket and reaches straight for it, pulling out his phone. Techno’s replied to his tweet. With a little smirk, he begins typing out a response, as he always did.

**———**

_ purpled  _ ** _(@burpled)_ **

_ im up for it _

**———**

There. Sammy could help him find some way to get a location through to Techno without the authorities finding out. He knows that once the others find out (more specifically Eighty), he’ll get chewed out for not consulting them before sending such a dangerous message out. When the day comes, Purpled would bring Sammy and defeat Technoblade once and for all. NOLIFE would become the most feared name in the country, and Eighty would trust his abilities again. 

He smiled at the thought. It was too good to be true. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's fanart is by @beecuzscience on twt! it looks amazing and u guys should check them out :)))


	17. Arc Three: Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jschlatt grimaced, kicking at a pebble on the ground before him. The two were patrolling together, something they didn’t do often but was usually fun for both of them. Today was easier because they didn’t have fans stopping their every move, but for Jschlatt, a weight pulled down his every step. The city had been gloomy for weeks on end because of the citizens’ shared fear of the villains. Most travelled by car and many didn’t travel at all. The city was in an unofficial lockdown, despite countless statements from both the heroes and the government that there was absolutely no reason to fear. Jschlatt couldn’t blame them, honestly. There absolutely were reasons to fear.

** [fanart](https://imgur.com/a/ddnsudY) **

**———**

_ purpled  _ ** _(@burpled)_ **

_ @bloodgodtechno hope to see you this evening at the designated location! _

**—**

_ Technoblade  _ ** _(@bloodgodtechno)_ **

_ likewise. _

**———**

“So Twitter staff can’t just look into the DMs to find anything?” Jschlatt raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. Wilbur let out a small groan at this and gave him a look. 

“Like I said,” said Wilbur. “they  _ have.  _ I even helped them with it. Nothing. The two must’ve found some way to communicate without Twitter. And yes, we’ve looked into databases on both their phones, nothing as usual. Tracing Purpled’s IP address brought us to a laundromat miles away and all the ways to trace his general location were blocked somehow. Same with Techno, just his IP address was elsewhere, though still off.” 

“Well, did you check the laundromat?”

Wilbur quirked at a sad smile. “Yes. The poor owner was terrified to hell when the SWAT team and Philza showed up. Checked the perimeter of a radius of a few hundred feet,”

Jschlatt grimaced, kicking at a pebble on the ground before him. The two were patrolling together, something they didn’t do often but was usually fun for both of them. Today was easier because they didn’t have fans stopping their every move, but for Jschlatt, a weight pulled down his every step. The city had been gloomy for weeks on end because of the citizens’ shared fear of the villains. Most travelled by car and many didn’t travel at all. The city was in an unofficial lockdown, despite countless statements from both the heroes and the government that there was absolutely no reason to fear. Jschlatt couldn’t blame them, honestly. There absolutely were reasons to fear.

“Well, what’s the point anyways? Sun goes down in like ten hours and they could be anywhere in the city or even other places in California,” he grumbled, the gold from his quirk hovering around him glimmering in the sunlight. It was barely November, but the weather was already getting icy. Even so, the sun shined just as brightly as summertime, though in a few hours it would be obscured by angry clouds.

Wilbur fiddled with a rope dangling from his guitar case, which was decorated with musical notes that glowed daintily when touched even slightly. Truly beautiful technology. Jschlatt raised his hand absent-mindedly to brush his fingers on the fake horns attached to his head and felt plain. Attached to one of the horns was a microphone that was currently pushed to the side, and they were also able to double as earmuffs. Comfortable, but nowhere as fancy as the gleaming musical notes that were painted across Wilbur’s guitar case on a wavy staff. 

“What do we do?” Jschlatt asked, at last, tearing his eyes from the mesmerizing glimmer of the silver notes on the case to stare at Wilbur. To his shock, his roommate wore an expression of defeat. 

“I don’t know, man…” murmured Wilbur. “I really don’t know.”

And they set off onto the rest of the route they had walked hundreds of times before in solemn silence. Jschlatt knew that both of them were in very deep thinking and he did not have enough confidence in his guesses to speak and he supposed Wilbur was the same. Even when he saw fans squeal softly and point at the two of them, they went unnoticed to Wilbur. Jschlatt has never seen his friend this dreadingly quiet before in the years he’d known him for. It was a first, but it was also the first time they are dealing with villains as clever and aggressive as this, so it was appropriate. 

The patrol finished in what felt like several hours, though when Jschlatt got back to the apartment and checked, it was only two and the clock was just ticking past twelve. The rain started when they had just made it back to the building, but it was already terribly heavy. Jschlatt sat on the couch, listening to the pounding of rain against the windows.

**———**

The room was in silence. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, and it remained that way for several more seconds. Deo was sitting on a crate, his fingers curled around the edges so tightly his fingertips were white. His sunglasses sat crooked on his face. Purpled stood beside him, hands tightened into fists and shaking from how tight they were. He looked like he was ready to strangle someone. Unsurprising, as he was exactly the type of person to chase you on heels and murder you with a shoe if he was pissed.

Eighty stood on the other side of the room, arms crossed with a hardened glare against the two of them. His eyes burned like fire and his hair was ruffled from how many times he had run his hand through it in exasperation. He was trembling in fury and his gaze looked like it could kill.

Sammy himself leaned against a concrete pillar, trying to distance himself from the others as much as possible. His hands were casually tucked in his pockets but he glanced between the two sides doubtfully. They hadn’t had this big of an argument ever before, even when Eighty and Deo bantered over almond milk for three days. 

It started when Eighty woke them up with outraged shouting. Sammy was rubbing his eyes groggily and reaching for his sunglasses when he saw Eighty standing over the couch where Purpled was sitting with a phone in his hand. Purpled looked annoyed as Eighty lectured him on the agreement with Technoblade.  _ ‘Who gave you permission to do this?!’ _ Eighty had bellowed. Purpled rolled his eyes and pointed at Deo, who like Sammy, was barely awake.

The argument started there, with Eighty and Deo shouting at each other with Purpled chiming in hotly once in a while. Sammy watched awkwardly, not quite sure which side to be on. Eighty insisted that both Sammy and Purpled were too young to fight Technoblade alone, and Deo firing back that they were teenagers (experienced ones at that) that had gone through way more than and would have no problems taking on a ripoff Creepypasta. At last, Eighty stormed out and disappeared for a few hours.

It was nearly ten in the evening now, which was the time Purpled agreed to meet Technoblade. Eighty must’ve noticed Purpled glancing at the alarm clock, because he snapped, “You’re not going.”

Purpled began to complain. “But Deo permitted us and he’s our leader! And Sammy wants to go too, right Sammy?” He turned to his friend. All of a sudden, all eyes were on Sammy. He gulped uncomfortably and stammered out a weak, “Y-yeah,”

Purpled began to speak again, but Eighty cut him off. “It doesn’t matter if he wants to go too. The point stands that you’re both too young!” As soon as the words left his mouth, the alarm clock blared an irritating honk. Ten had rolled around faster than they thought. Purpled pounded on the crate harshly and Deo let out an annoyed groan. Eighty stared at both of them dangerously.

“What’s that?” he says softly. “Looks like you can’t go,” 

“Surely he won’t mind if I’m late by-“

Eighty’s eyes glimmered white as a dragon made of water swept into the warehouse. This one was much bigger than the little ones that Eighty moulded to show off but still smaller than Eighty’s quirk at the max. With every thundering breath the entity made, steam fell out between its teeth and out its nostrils. It was more opaque too- a bit like swamp water but instead of ugly brown, it was still blue. It guarded the doors, lashing its tail and splashing the floors wet and eyeing Purpled and Deo with menacing, narrowed eyes. 

All of Eighty’s dragons had horns, big or small. The water dragons typically had small, jagged ones. This one differed however, the horns sticking out of its head and rose high before curling just at the tip, water beading off the point and dripping back onto its head, creating an infinite water cycle. Now that Sammy examined it a bit more, the water seemed to ripple through its body like the water cycle of a fountain, except it was harsh and fast. Trying to simply walk through it would be like trying to pass through a waterfall.

“No,” Eighty snarled out, pointing at Purpled. “I’m off to bed. Good night.”

He whirled around and treaded away, disappearing around the corner. The dragon remained (for at least ten or fifteen more minutes, Sammy knew), curling up at the door, the loud splashing of the water penetrating through the silence. Purpled watched as Eighty left, then dropped his voice to a whisper. “Right, now that he’s gone- Sammy, you’re okay with pulling an all-nighter, right?”

Sammy blinked plainly, befuddlement flooding into him. “What?” 

Purpled stared at him blankly. “You didn’t think I’d give him the actual time, right?” He drawled. Sammy blinked again, and Purpled snickered, clapping his hands together. “Well, I didn’t. We’re going at two in the morning.”

Sammy’s eyes fell towards the dragon, who was still staring at them, steam flooding out its mouth as it yawned. “Y-you know the dragon can go and alert him, right?” He muttered, leaning forward so Deo and Purpled can hear.

“Nope,” Deo piped up. “Eighty told me all about his quirk one night. When he wants his dragon to last long, he keeps it concentrated on one task. This one’s task is to guard the doors and not let anyone out, so it won’t pick up anything else as its sole purpose is to guard, guard, guard. If he wanted to make it more viable- first of all, he would have to  _ be here _ . Second of all, it would go feral before it even hit the ten-minute mark and wreck havoc.

“Anyway, I made a death trap at the location. It’s beside the three green barrels, one of which is labelled with graffiti saying ‘POTATO #1’. Once it’s triggered, the victim falls into a pit and concrete pieces will tumble on them. If Technoblade’s quirk is what I found on his old files, then he shouldn’t be able to escape.”

Sammy’s eyes widened. “How did you get his-“ 

“Doesn’t matter,” Deo smirked, waving his hand dismissively. “The folder’s burnt to a crisp now, so no one else will get to them. Anyway, if you get into a sticky situation, just bait him towards the barrels.”

“Well, is that all?” Purpled said happily, eyes lighting up. Sammy cleared his throat and held a finger up.

“Uhm, may I ask what’s Technoblade’s...” he started, but then trailed off nervously. Deo’s grin widened, and he leaned forwards to whisper it into his ear.

**———**

The abandoned factory was quiet. The area was quiet with only the chirps of the crickets. Two figures stood near the wired fence, making their way closer to the dark, worn-down building. One had a gleaming violet ring hovering over his head, and the other hand green wisps of smoke rising from his arms. One more silhouette watched from the roof of a smaller shack beside the factory, one with three green barrels leaning against it, one of which was coated with graffiti. A crown sat on his head, shimmering in the full moon as he stayed crouched on the roof. 

The boy with the purple halo raised his head and called out, “Is that you, Techno?” He had a sweet dialect, his voice honeyed drastically. The man crouching on the shack simpered and got up, jumping from the roof and right onto the ground before the three barrels. The two teenagers’ faces lit up in triumph, but they quickly fell when seconds passed and nothing happened.

“Fun lil’ trap you got here,” said Technoblade condescendingly, kicking at a slab of concrete sticking out the ground. “Unfortunately, some random hero got to it before I did.” All of a sudden, the dried blood on the concrete seemed to shine in the dim moonlight. Purpled’s eyes narrowed but quickly smoothed out.

“Unlike you,” Technoblade started again. “I don’t have to resort to cheap tactics to win a duel. You brought a friend?” He nodded at Sammy, who grinned back cheekily. “He’ll be the first to die.”

And suddenly, Technoblade was in front of the two teenagers, his footsteps having thundered against the trashed ground, the notorious blade forged from diamond was swinging through the air, slicing down across Sammy’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fanart of techno in this chapter is by @beeutifulflower on insta. tysm!


	18. Arc Three: Part Five

[fanart](https://imgur.com/a/bPuulx7)

For a few seconds, Sammy’s life flashed before his eyes. Meeting NOLIFE, committing his first crime, the terrible memories of Astelic’s disappearance, petty arguments between the remaining four of them leading up to the shouting that occurred just a few hours ago. Would he be sent to heaven or hell? If it was the latter, he would be condemned forever for all the people he had killed. Would death hurt? Would it be quick or drawn out? 

But the burst of blood across his chest never came. Purpled’s purple halo had swung forwards at the speed of light, leaving its place above its owner’s head and barely stopped the sword from hitting his friend’s chest. The ring pressed against the sword, refusing to budge. Using this time that the halo would be shielding him, Sammy jumped back shakily and the halo moved away from the sword, causing Technoblade to stumble forward in surprise but regaining his balance with a few staggering steps. The ring, undamaged, floated back towards Purpled. This time, instead of floating gently over his head, he held it like a frisbee, hand clutched around the ring. Purpled drew back his arm and flicked the halo towards Technoblade, and the ring’s edges immediately sharpened.

Technoblade drew back his sword and deflected the ring, though it wasn’t as easy as hitting back a plastic frisbee. It was heavy like gold and the screeching scrape that sounded when the sharp edges of the halo had collided and scratched against the blade forged from diamond. Purpled reached out to catch the halo as it flew back towards him like a boomerang, the edges smoothing out, but it flew by him and crashed into a concrete light pole. Upon impact, the concrete crumbled and broke, crashing to the ground and the pieces barely missing Purpled’s head. He didn’t seem bothered, however, and called back the halo. 

“Sammy!” he screams roughly. “Do something!” 

Sammy snaps back into his senses. Being that close to death had given him quite a shock. The smoke that was swirling around his wrists began to rise in the air, and Technoblade stopped mid-swing towards Purpled to step back cautiously, eyes kept on the smoke that was growing slowly more opaque. It formed a figure, one that resembled someone standing right here. A wispy green version of Technoblade fell out of the swirls of mist, eyes hollow and white. It wielded everything the real Techno had- sword, cloak… 

The smoky version of the mass terrorist’s lips curled up into a cocky, arrogant smile as it withdrew its sword and swung at Techno, whose eyes widened in shock at the figure that was… him. Techno raised his sword and the two blades clashed. Whirling out of nowhere, the purple halo spun towards him, forcing the terrorist back and knocking it away again defensively, sparks flying from the collision, the man hissing curses under his breath. Not even a second after, the smoke Techno swung forward with its sword again, a wide smirk pulling at its face. The blue sword met the green and the green was pushed back, the blue sword then stabbing through the chest of the green sword’s wielder. 

The toxic green Techno fell to the ground, mist pouring out of the gaping hole in its chest. The smile faded away, and the eyes went from white to grey. Techno glowered at Sammy and Purpled, who beamed back at him. Sammy was wrong- this was  _ fun.  _

His opponent rushed forward, the sword in the air again. The halo went forward again, but Techno simply ducked and brandished the sword towards Sammy. He was getting hard-targetted, but he knew how to counter this. Two green hands wrapped around Technoblade’s neck and pulled him back; the smoke Technoblade had gotten up again, the hole in its chest smaller and still shrinking. Techno snarled and choked, spitting as the grip his counterpart had around his throat tightened. With a kick backwards, he escaped, still coughing as his eyes narrowed even more. 

“Little shitheads,” he hisses. Sammy’s smile grew even wider, if possible.    
“Thank you,” said Sammy cheerfully. More smoke whirled around him, blinding both his, Purpled’s, and Technoblade’s vision with a toxic shade of green. Out of the smoke, a second Technoblade stepped out, eyes just as snow white as the other embodiment of Techno. The normally coloured Techno seemed to realize now- it wasn’t a two against one, it was a four against one. 

“Oh,  _ fuck off! _ ” Techno screamed, slashing at one of the green Technos, who jumped back, imitating the real counterpart of his moves from earlier. Another green Techno stepped out of the smoke. All three began rushing him and then it was a clash of blades. Instead of the clash of diamond against diamond, there was a dull thud every time the gleaming diamond hit one of the smokily opaque green swords. The halo was in the mix too, though being knocked around easily, it always came back to Techno like a boomerang.

“Isn’t this funny,” said Purpled gently, nudging Sammy. Something snapped in him.

“Oh, fuck off,” he echoed, glaring at Purpled harshly. His friend stared at him for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and flicking his wrist downwards, bringing the ring of his halo down on Technoblade’s sword and pinning it to the ground.    
Technoblade let a small gasp fall from his lips and pulled at the handle, but in the few seconds he was disarmed, the clones hacked away at him with their own swords, which were significantly blunter. It was as if the diamond sword was so special and unique that it could never be imitated exactly. Smoke covered him and suffocated him, keeping him to the ground. All there was were little grunts and cries of pain before- silence.

Purpled’s eyes lit up and he bounced forwards, waving the smoke away from his vision. “Techno?” he said sweetly, leaning down to peer into the body that Sammy could not see.

It happened in a flash. Purpled leaped backwards with a loud cry of pain as if he was stabbed- and he was. The smoke dispersed slightly to reveal a deep gash was made down his thigh. Sammy felt rage bottle up inside of him, rushing forward to stop Techno from finishing the job. “Go!” he shouted, and Techno’s sword was torn from his grip by the combined effort of three Technos. That wasn’t his only weapon obviously, because in his other hand was a small silver dagger, gleaming in the moonlight with blood glistening and sliding down the blade. Sammy felt his eye twitch as Techno panted, a sinister smile curling at his lips despite the numerous cuts and bruises he had. He pushed the clones away harshly before throwing his dagger at Sammy. He instinctively dodged to the side and turned around to pick up the dagger, but heard a whimper of pain.  _ Fuck. _

Sammy was sitting on the ground, a gash in his leg and dagger in his arm. He was biting his lip, his face twisted in agony. Sammy whirled around to see Techno’s smile grow. This was what the man wanted this entire time, for Sammy to dodge and for Purpled to become injured more. The halo had returned to hover above his head, but it was now mundane and desaturated and was started to develop numerous cracks. 

“What a sweet kid,” Techno growled. One of the green Technos opened its mouth in a scream and began to wither, its figure crumbling and dissolving back into pathetic smoke. “However, I think I’m winning this,” said the terrorist. Almost immediately, the withering clone got up again, seemingly even stronger than before and threw itself at Techno with the duplicated sword in its hand. The rest of the clones followed him, beginning to slash at Techno again. The man resisted, though significantly weaker. 

“You’re fucking dead,” snarled Sammy, stepping forward himself to get a better look at his enemy. 

“When hell freezes over,” calls the terrorist from over the sounds of the swords battling with each other.    
“Which apparently, will be-”   
“ _ Sammy! _ ” 

Sammy whirled around to see the halo flying towards the battle and colliding with Techno. Upon collision, the halo crumbled completely and all suddenly, all was white. 

**———**

When the light faded, Purpled staggered to his feet, pain weighing down his steps. He could barely walk, yet he had to see what had happened. He glanced upwards- the halo on his head was back, but it was useless. Thin, fragile, and grey. It was probably as light as a feather now and had no use in battle, just like him. There was a distance whirring in the background, stemming from the sky.

Sammy was groaning on the uneven ground, rubbing his head. The smoky versions of Techno had completely vanished in the flash and all that remained was the green smoke floating up to the stars. Techno himself was collapsed on the pavement and slumped over, his chest heaving just barely. His sword was in the ground a few feet away, the blade half-stuck in between two pieces of metal and concrete. It was dripping in a clear green substance, which was the mock blood of the clones. Purpled absent-mindedly looked backwards to see the dagger lying beside a few cans, his blood still shining against the silver. 

Sammy had gotten to his feet when Purpled was leaning over Techno, peering down at his opponent. Bruises and cuts littered all over his body, a few deep gashes stood out against the pale skin, and his eyes were barely open, staring up at Purpled weakly but defiantly. He still had fight in him but had no strength to back it up. 

“Just kill me,” he whispered. “Just fucking kill me.”

“Gladly,” Purpled murmured back.

The whirring had grown louder. They were helicopter blades and Purpled knew instantly that the authorities were here. He needed to make this fast. He trudged over to the sword sticking out the ground and snatched it up, turning back to Techno. He felt many pairs of eyes on him- Techno’s, Sammy’s, and the cops’, watching from the helicopters. 

Purpled lifted the sword to bring down on Technoblade. Five months of terror over the city that would be ripped from him by NOLIFE. He and Sammy had done it- they’d done what countless professional heroes couldn’t do. Technoblade was at his feet, he had Technoblade’s sword raised above its owner, ready to end the life of the one that had ended so many others. He heard something fall behind him, but he didn’t care. This was it.

He lurched forward, a sudden pain spiking from his leg. It was just a slight movement, but not even two seconds later, two things planted into him. Both were sharp, like needles. One at his neck and one at his side. Instantaneously, he felt tired. His body felt numb, and he staggered. Realization settled into him.

_ No. _

He tried to stab Techno anyway, but the sword fell from his hands when his fingers uncurled around the handle.

_ No. No, this can’t be happening. _

But it was. Purpled’s vision blurred, then all was black.

**———**

_ “Purpled and Sammy of NOLIFE are taken into custody after their fight with Technoblade, who managed to escape the clutches of authorities.” _

**———**

Sunlight peered in through the broken windows, and Eighty blinked the sleep away from his eyes. He stretched and yawned, feeling completely energized. Today felt like a good day, and he looked over at the mattresses beside him to wake up Purpled and Sammy.

The mattresses were empty. His brow curled in confusion, but they smoothed out in realization. Panic overcame his once tired face.  _ What the fuck?  _

He reached over for his phone, unlocking it faster than he ever had. This had to be a record for opening Twitter fastest. He scrolled through the feed, disbelief and shock stabbing at him with every tweet he read about the arresting of Sammy and Purpled.  _ No. No. No. _

He failed his promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DOUBLE UPDATE LETS GO  
the fanart of skeppy in this chapter is by @frozen.nightmares on insta. thank you so much!!


	19. Arc Three: Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well?” Eighty’s voice cut him out of it. “Are you happy? Are you happy now that they’re gone because you didn’t stop them?!” his friend voice breaks, and Deo couldn’t blame him. “I made a promise to myself, you know that?! That after Astelic’s disappearance, I wouldn’t let anything happen to them,” Eighty took a deep breath, choking midway. “and I expected you to help me with that. But clearly, you don’t care! You don’t care if they disappear, you don’t care if they’re taken away!”   
Deo felt rage overcome him as well. How dare Eighty say that he doesn’t care for the people that he’s been with for years? They were his family, and Eighty was out of line for suggesting such an outrageous thought. His blood boiled, and all he could see was red. “How dare you,” he said slowly. “How dare you say that-”

[fanart](https://imgur.com/a/takXxiW)

“_Deo!_”

Deo awoke with a start at the malicious shout of his name, not even having the time to process everything before he heard it again. “_Deo!_” he recognized the voice, it was Eighty’s. It was too early in the morning to deal with his complaining, in Deo’s humble opinion, but he groaned and got up anyway, pushing himself up and stretching before turning to glare at Eighty. To his surprise, angry tears were streaming down his face.

“Woah man, why are you crying?” he says cautiously, though a sinking feeling in his chest told him exactly why his friend was in tears. Eighty let out a hollow laugh, one that echoed in the warehouse and gave Deo frightening chills.

“Why am I crying? _Is that the question you ask_?!” Eighty screams, enraged. “Look around you, Deo! Look who’s missing! Purpled and Sammy, that’s who! Your negligence got them arrested!”

“Arrested?” said Deo, disbelief flooding through him. “They’re not arrested!” he continues, hating how his voice cracked in the end. A black object is hurled in his direction, and Deo has just enough time to catch it. It’s Eighty’s phone, the red bed phone charm and the old sparkly stickers that Purpled put on it and all. The page was already open for him- a news article with the headline: ‘_Two Members of NOLIFE Arrested After a Battle with Technoblade’_

_“Two members of NOLIFE were arrested last night after a battle with Technoblade. Purpled and Sammy, the two youngest members of NOLIFE at ages 15 and 16 respectively, were battling Technoblade, the infamous terrorist when they were shot by tranquillizer darts and apprehended with authorities. Technoblade managed to get away from the grasps of authorities, and the punishment for Purpled and Sammy’s crimes are unknown.”_

That was all he had to read before his throat closed and his heart dropped in his chest. Everything felt cold all of a sudden, and he couldn’t stop himself from rereading the first line. _Two members of NOLIFE were arrested last night after a battle with Technoblade. Two members of NOLIFE were arrested last night after a battle with Technoblade. Two members-_

“Well?” Eighty’s voice cut him out of it. “Are you happy? Are you happy now that they’re gone because you didn’t stop them?!” his friend voice breaks, and Deo couldn’t blame him. “I made a promise to myself, you know that?! That after Astelic’s disappearance, I wouldn’t let anything happen to them,” Eighty took a deep breath, choking midway. “and I expected you to help me with that. But clearly, you don’t care! You don’t care if they disappear, you don’t care if they’re taken away!”   
Deo felt rage overcome him as well. How dare Eighty say that he doesn’t care for the people that he’s been with for years? They were his family, and Eighty was out of line for suggesting such an outrageous thought. His blood boiled, and all he could see was red. “How dare you,” he said slowly. “How dare you say that-”  
“How dare I? How dare _I?_” Eighty laughed coldly, stepping closer to Deo and looking down at him. Deo felt small, smaller than he ever felt. “You endangered them, you threw them in the face of Death, and even if they didn’t die they’re now gone and we might never see them again. And you ask how dare I suggest that you don’t care for them?!” Deo opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a small squeak when Eighty continued to ramble. “They were our family! You may have only known them for three years but I’ve known them for seven! Why do you think I care so much?” with that, a fresh stream of tears fell down his face. Guilt flooded through Deo as he realized what he had done. He opened his mouth once more to apologize, but something came over him. His pride that refused to go down just yet.

“Why are you yelling at me for this when you did the same to Astelic?”

Eighty looked like Deo had hit him and Deo instantly knew that he shouldn’t have said that. Eighty’s lip quivered and he looked like a kid that was being yelled at. “I- no, that was different,” he said quietly, and Deo felt a second wash of guilt over him. “That was different, I didn’t mean to,”

Deo didn’t know why, but he carried on. His mind was screaming at him to stop, his heart shattered at every word he said and it looked like Eighty’s did too. “What do you mean you didn’t mean to?!” He spat maliciously. “You mean you didn’t mean to give her that fate? Well, I didn’t either, so lay the fuck off! At least like this, we could maybe see Purpled and Sammy again, but we have no clue where Astelic is or how she’s doing!” When he stopped, he was breathing heavily and when he saw Eighty’s shocked face, what he said really hit him.

“Wait, I didn’t mean-”

But Eighty was already leaving, walking away from Deo as fast as he could. Eighty didn’t need to see his face to know that Eighty had more tears falling from his eyes, and when the door slammed shut behind Eighty’s retreating figure, one thought went through his head.

_God, I’m such a dick._

The sunlight from the windows had fallen away a long time ago, and there was more thundering in the distance. It was raining again, just as hard as yesterday, maybe even harder. The thought of Purpled and Sammy sitting in a cold, gloomy jail cell and Eighty trudging through the unforgiving rain broke the shards of his heart into shards once more.

Deo sat down on the empty couch, feeling tears pool in his eyes. For the first time in years, he didn’t have a family to go back to. He was alone again and this time it was all his fault.

**———**

_“Stop fooling around, Eighty, where’s Astelic?!”_

**———**

It was all his fault. He wandered through the rain, his hair wet and his clothes sopping in rainwater. It was a terrible feeling, the little trickles of water running down his face, but nothing could compare to the pain he felt at the moment. If he had just stopped Purpled and Sammy, if he was competent enough to stop them… they would still be all together.

History truly repeats itself. Eighty choked back a terrible sob, wiping the rain and tears from his eyes with no avail. He walked along the edges of the forest, wanting to run and wanting to get away from his nightmares as much as possible. He can’t go back, he won’t be able to look Deo in the eyes again. He doesn’t want to face the truth, the truth that is that Eighty caused Astelic’s disappearance. He can’t face it.

**———**

_“Where is she?! He’s dead, so she should be back!”_

**———**

But Eighty has to face it eventually. He’s just not ready yet.

Where would he go after this? Where _could _he go? He’s doomed himself from a regular life forever and he can’t go back to Deo. He could run from one side of the country to another, he could leave the country entirely. Moving to Canada didn’t seem like a terrible idea.

Or maybe he could turn himself in. Eighty could walk into a police station with his hands up and all his knives and daggers stowed away in a hollow trunk in a forest, where it would stay forgotten and abandoned forever. He could give up his life of crime and let the authorities take charge.

_And get the death sentence? No thanks._

**———**

_“Astelic? ASTELIC!”_

**———**

“Astelic,” he felt himself choke out pathetically. “Why… why does this have to happen?” he cried, stumbling forward. His legs felt like jelly and he didn’t know if he could run anymore. He’d exhausted himself screaming at Deo. A burst of thunder sounded from above and he stopped running, about to collapse from the lack of energy. He sees a silhouette in the distance, but he can’t be bothered to face them. He turns away and tries to walk past them, but a familiar voice stops him.

“Eh?” Technoblade hums, lifting his pink eyes to stare at Eighty.

Eighty stopped in his path to stare back at Techno with wide eyes. He felt himself stiffen before white-hot rage filled him. Eighty no longer felt like a vegetable and was suddenly filled with more energy than he ever had. “YOU!” He screamed, feeling his eyes sting from more tears. “You’re the one! You’re the one that got them arrested!” he shrieks again. All the sadness and despair had withered away from him- now all he wanted was to _kill Technoblade_.

Technoblade didn’t seem to return the feelings, however. “Woah there, buddy,” he laughs nervously, backing away from Eighty, who followed every step he took. “I don’t wanna fight now-”

The rainwater began to back away from Eighty as if he repelled it. The droplets began to merge, and Techno’s eyes widened, realizing what was happening. A dragon formed out of the colourless rain, one larger than Eighty had ever made. It took all the energy in his body to keep it going, but he didn’t care. He wanted Technoblade dead by his hands and he didn’t care what it took to get it. The dragon let out a breath of steam puffs, and it nearly blinded Eighty for a bit but he didn’t miss Techno trying to back away from the fight.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Eighty snarled before turning back to his dragon, who turned to him as well with spirit in its eyes. “_Kill him!_” he screamed carelessly, pointing at Techno, who withdrew his sword from his bag seemingly unwillingly. “Rip him apart, I don’t care what it takes!” he was filled with such grief and anger that he felt like it wasn’t even him talking anymore.

The dragon let out another breath of steam and dove towards Techno, who leapt to the side and barely avoided being caught by the water horns of the dragon. “Look, man!” shouted the pink-haired man. “We can fight some other time, I really don’t want some more attention right now!”

Eighty felt himself chuckle bitterly, his eyes wild. “But you were fine with fighting a fifteen-year-old and a sixteen-year-old?! Get lost!” he hollered, withdrawing a knife from his jacket and throwing it at Techno, who dodged again. Immediately, the dragon turned sharply and fixated its gaze on the terrorist again, who stared with disbelief at the face of the monster in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> art in this chapter is by @funnydiscstal on twt. tysm, check them out!


	20. Arc Three: Part Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Up the pace! C’mon!” He shouted, and the dragon dipped its head in obedience and charged towards Techno at such an insane speed that even he couldn’t jump away in time.

[fanart](https://imgur.com/KeoVqYe)

“I don’t want to fight!” Techno repeated after dodging the dragon, fueling Eighty’s rage even further. He felt his eyes narrow, and he knew he looked wild. The dragon travelled towards Techno again, and Techno leapt away from it in fear of being washed away.    
“I want to,” Eighty panted, throwing his hand out to command the dragon to attack Techno again. Two words chained in his mind-  _ kill him.  _ He turned to his dragon, which was travelling way too slow for his liking. “Up the pace! C’mon!” He shouted, and the dragon dipped its head in obedience and charged towards Techno at such an insane speed that even he couldn’t jump away in time. The sheer size and pace of the creature smashed into him, the waves flowing around him and throwing him into the trunk of a tree. The creature immediately fell into shambles though. As soon as it crashed into Techno’s body, it shifted from a semi-corporeal animal into just water. It resembled ocean waves in a way, the tall ones that people surfboarded on. 

Eighty saw blood falling front he side of Techno’s head. Was he dead this quick? He walked forward towards the motionless body. He was about four or five feet away from Techno when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye; Techno’s hand twitched around his sword. He stepped back just as the other swung his sword across the air, right where his body would have been if he didn’t move back. “Finally fighting back, huh?” he tittered snidely, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a dagger with a gold-encrusted handle. It’s been a while since he took this out- he’d nicked from a snobby businessman who collected blades and hadn’t bothered to use it since because he would always just use his quirk to attack. 

But Eighty knew he couldn’t go on the offensive with a blade so much shorter than his opponent’s, especially when Techno was so skilled with his sword. Techno got up and was immediately slashing at Eighty, who could only dodge and deflect the blows whenever the sword got too close for his comfort. Eighty knew he was experienced enough to not get a single scratch on him, and Techno seemed to know that too. Frustration grew on his face every time the NOLIFE member would evade the slashes and lashes that he swung with his diamond sword, the diamond sword that had never failed him before but was failing to a man with a simple dagger.

“Will you just die already so I can get on my way?” shouted Techno irritably.    
“Will you bring back Purpled and Sammy?” Eighty shot back and narrowly avoided another one of Techno’s sword swings.

The pink-haired man let out a low growl and retreated, to Eighty’s confusion. He reached into a luggage bag that he dropped on the ground when Eighty first sent the water dragon towards him and took out a bulging bag of hand grenades.

Eighty’s heart lurched in his chest as the water dragon began to form again to block them, but it wasn’t fast enough. Techno pulled the pin on one of the grenades and hurled it at Eighty, who leaned to the side and it fell behind him into the forest, disappearing. He turned around to face the grenade,  _ Where the fuck did he get grenades?!  _ Eighty thought to himself, panicked, and began to move backwards unconsciously before turning around and breaking into a run to get as far away as possible before it exploded. 

_ Fuck, I’m stupid,  _ he realized when the sword was just in his face.  _ I’m running towards Technoblade. _

Behind him, the grenade went off, completely blowing away quite a few trees and starting sparks in the rain that eventually grew to fire despite the rain pouring down on it. In front of him, the sword swung, forcing him to lean back and have it scrape his chest. It stung, but it was better than certain death. 

The flames roared, starting to spread. The rain brought down the damage it could have done, but couldn’t stop it entirely, as it burned hot and flames licked the trees and grass. “What a tragedy,” Techno murmured as he swung the sword down again, this time having it slice through Eighty’s shoulder and drawing blood. Pain exploded in his arm and Eighty forced himself not to stiffen in pain, instead of walking backwards closer towards the flames that burned hot behind him. “Seems like you’ll be just as easy as your stupid teenagers,”

“What the  _ fuck did you say _ ?!”

The flames began to grow bigger and bigger as rage flooded back into Eighty. They roared horrifyingly but not naturally. Instead, it was a howl that thundered across the area. A dragon fashioned out of the red and orange fire breathed out smoke, the blaze burning and sizzling and grew strong even with water surrounding it. A look of obvious shock grew over Techno’s face, his jaw dropped and the grip on his sword loosened. Eighty stood in front of the dragon with tears still falling down his face. The fire was still scorching to him and it burned against his back but at this point, he didn’t care. He didn’t even care if he was caught and arrested, he just wanted Techno dead. 

[ “Not another  _ word _ ,” Eighty hisses. ](https://imgur.com/ipFUYfD)

The fire dragon opened its mouth and a stream of flames spewed out towards Techno, who ran to the left and avoided them. The patch of dead grass where he was standing grew ablaze and was quickly extinguished by the downpour of rainwater on it, even if the dragon still stood hovering a few feet above the ground. It opened its mouth again and like a flamethrower began to spit out flames in a sweeping range, forcing Techno to back away. 

“Not so funny now, is it?” Eighty sneered crossly as the dragon flew up into the air to move closer to Techno. Another line of flames shot towards Techno and this time they shot far and was a shade of brilliant blue and lit the grass aflame once more. Techno’s clothes became slightly singed and smoky.  _ We’re getting there. _

“Again,” Eighty whispered to the dragon, who lowered its head and spit another row of blue flames towards the bubblegum-haired terrorist. A spark of fire appeared at Techno’s hair and disappeared a split second later, put out by the rainwater.

Eighty pounded his fist against his leg, stepping forwards. “Ugh! Kill him!” he screamed breathlessly. The dragon seemed to hesitate before spewing flames towards the trees, lighting another portion of the forest up before diving towards Techno, who couldn’t avoid it as easy as the water counterpart of the creature. He leapt to the side, the tails of his long cloak being caught in the flames and became charred.  _ Just a bit faster.  _ “Faster?” he asks hopefully to the dragon, who pauses for a few seconds before breathing a puff of smoke at Techno, then spitting more blue flames towards him. It hit him spot on.

_ He’s gotta be dead now,  _ Eighty thought, eyes wide.  _ No one can survive that!  _

He inched closer to his target, shaking from the aftermath of the fight. Was it this easy and Eighty could get away without a scratch? He had done what Purpled and Sammy threw away their lives to do, he had killed the person that took away two of the people he cared about most in this world.    
But what did he feel now? He felt triumph, for sure, but it felt… forced, like he was forcing himself to believe he won.  _ Because even with Technoblade dead, Purpled and Sammy are still locked away. It didn’t matter at all. _

The blue flames disappeared and it was silent again with only the crackle of flames behind him. He expected to see Techno’s dead, charred body, something that could give him the feeling he desperately craved. 

“What the fuck.”   
His enemy stood there, dazed, with no burns at all except for a few on his cheeks and arms and other marks he acquired throughout the battle. Techno looked confused as well on how he lived through that with little to no blisters. “What..?” said Techno quietly before he trailed off, eyes widening at something behind Eighty. Eighty felt a blast of heat from behind him and-  _ oh my god it was happening again.  _

His heart was dropping in his chest and his breaths quickened. The heat around his face and shoulders and back was such a familiar feeling even when the last time he felt it was almost three years ago. A deafening roar came out of the mouth of his fire dragon and when Eighty forced himself to turn around to face it, he was reminded of a genuine monster. The dragon was breathing flames into the trees and setting everything ablaze and it was ruining everything  _ again.  _ Destruction rained down around them as trees fells and everything was alit and  _ everything-  _

“Stop it!” he heard himself scream with the last of his breath. He couldn’t breathe, his throat was too tight to breathe, he choked on his tears as the dragon let out another cry. It was all his fault, it was all his fault again, it’s always all his fault, and why can’t he just  _ live a normal life. _

But it was Eighty’s fault, it was his fault he was like this, it’s his fault this was all happening and it was his fault that history was repeating itself. The monster turned to them and spewed another mouthful of orange flames that lit the grass around them. The rain didn’t stop, it was still pouring, but it certainly didn’t stop or lessen the fires. 

“I’m sorry,” came a deep rasp behind him, and Eighty turned just in time to see Techno bringing the pommel of his sword down on his head. He was out like a light.

**———**

_ “You’re not sneaky.” _

_ The little pizza place is empty other than the two people in the middle of it. One was a smirking preteen and one was a little child, maybe nine, who stood with wide violet eyes at the older, who glanced down to the child’s purple sweater sleeves that were too big and happened to cover exactly what he was holding. The store was empty, Eighty was sure of that, or else he wouldn’t be confronting the child in the open. _

_ “The wallet. I know it’s there,” he added, casually moving towards the door, blocking the child off if he wished to run. The little boy swallowed and let the black leather wallet show from beneath his grey sleeves. The glowing halo above his head lowered slightly in shame, along with the boy’s head as he stared at the ground. Eighty laughed, tucking his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Kid, the way you nicked that was so obvious I’m surprised that guy didn’t notice. If I hadn’t caused that distraction, I think you’d be in a police station right now,”  _

_ His mind flashed back to the several large trash cans he had knocked over from the alleyways right onto the streets. They made quite some noise, the clattering. _

_ The boy lifted his eyes carefully, eyeing Eighty with suspicion. “Relax, dude,” said Eighty quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not gonna turn you in! I just wanted to show you a few things.” _

_ Keeping an eye on the quivering child, he shrugged his oversized jacket off, lifting it by the shoulder areas and showing off the inside. At least five or six wallets, each made from a different material (though leather repeated amongst three of them) and shaded in different colours, hung from a clip in his jacket. _

_ “How-” the child started to say, but Eighty hushed him up.  _ _   
_ _ “I’ll tell you if you come with me,” he said with a smirk. The child immediately began to back away, but Eighty raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, that sounded really bad, but I’m just like you. I have nowhere to go- look, kid, I- I think we can look out for each other. You’re like, what, eight or something? I don’t want a kid to get jumped and kidnapped,” _

_ The kid stared at him uncomfortably before finally responding. “Fine,” he says snidely, crossing his arms. “Only if my friend comes too though!” _

_ Eighty let a warm smile cross his face. A wash of relief flooded him- at least he knew this kid wouldn’t be murdered in an alleyway anytime soon. “That’s okay,” he says happily, walking up to the kid, who backed away again. Eighty let out a deep breath when he saw that but continued. “You can call me… Eighty.” _

_ The child lifts his head snobbily. “I’m Purpled. And my friend’s name is Astelic.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the two fanart in this chapter is created by (in order):  
\- boned  
\- @rocketeeeee on insta  
tysm!!


	21. Arc Three: Part Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s going to kidnap us, Purpled! He looks like a bad guy! He has chains hanging from his belt, Purpled, chains!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOAH this was a long chapter. 3.1k words, hope u enjoy!

_ [fanart, by @funnydisctal on twt](https://imgur.com/IoCmrks) _

_ Astelic was a kid around the same age as Purpled with long, brown hair and brown eyes that would look bigger if they weren’t narrowed in a glare all the time. Eighty wasn’t deaf, he could hear the little children whispering about him by his side. Purpled brought his friend Astelic to meet Eighty a few hours ago, and Astelic had tried to bite him. Purpled stopped her, but she kept shooting Eighty side-eyes and whispering into Purpled’s ear as if Eighty couldn’t hear her. _

_ “He’s going to kidnap us, Purpled! He looks like a bad guy! He has chains hanging from his belt, Purpled, chains!”  _

_ Ouch.  _

_ Eighty poked at his chains, which clattered against each other and made Astelic jump. Purpled eyed him suspiciously and whispered back to Astelic, “If he tries to kidnap us, we can just run. He doesn’t look that old either,” Eighty prevented himself from chuckling at this- he could pick both of them up and throw them. Not that he wanted to kidnap them, but he could easily restrain both of them if he did want to.  _

_ Not that he wanted to, though. _

_ He swallowed, glancing at the two by his side. Maybe this was a bad idea. He was barely thirteen, could he really take care of two nine-year-old children by himself? He took them in because he didn’t want them to get caught by the wrong people, but maybe he was considered the wrong person for this job too.  _

**———**

_ “Are you sure you’re okay?”  _

_ Purpled pulled at his jacket tails as Eighty sat on the rock, feeling the ocean breeze against his face. A gash was opened on his cheek and blood still dripped down it even when he tried to stop it by pressing a bit of gauze to it. Astelic stood awkwardly behind Eighty, fiddling with her oversized purple sweater sleeves that Eighty bought her to match with Purpled. Eighty winced as he continued to try to stop the bleeding. _

_ “Yeah, just a cut,” he reassured Purpled, gritting his teeth. They were ambushed by a group of thugs trying to rob them of their valuables. When Eighty tried to explain they didn’t have anything they would want, one of them scoffed and grabbed Purpled’s arm harshly. He had heard Astelic cry out in protest beside him and knew she was being grabbed as well. It didn’t take much to bring the idiots down with his quirk, but one of them got a pretty nasty slash in.  _

_ “Does it hurt?” Astelic whispered from behind him, leaning forwards and touching Eighty’s cheek gingerly. Eighty smiled at this, but it fell back into a grimace when the gash stung more. _ _   
_ _ “A little,” Eighty admits. “But nothing I can’t handle.” _

_ Astelic poked at his cheek a little more before Purpled spoke up and told her to stop. The two slept peacefully that night in the sleeping bag Eighty stole from a shop but Eighty stayed up, watching them sleep. His eyes fell to a scrape that Astelic earned on her forehead in the encounter earlier and bit his lip, subconsciously bringing a hand up to touch at his cut. He needed to make sure that they wouldn’t get hurt, or else he would never be able to forgive himself.  _

**———**

_ Four years later, Eighty crept up behind a kid wearing sunglasses and a black hoodie with jeans. He looked well-dressed, but Eighty has seen him around the area and knew exactly what he was. “Hey,”  _

_ The boy let out an ear-piercing shriek that made Astelic bend down and cover her ears. It ripped through the air like a banshee scream and even Eighty winced a little at that. The boy scrambled up and whipped around, drawing a small switchblade from his pocket and pointing it at Eighty, the tip a mere two inches from his neck. Astelic let out an indignant cry at the scene, but Eighty held up his hands in mock surrender just like he did with meeting Purpled. “Relax, dude,” he says wryly. “Not here to hurt you.”  _

_ The boy didn’t waver with his hold on his blade, his eyes narrowed behind his dark sunglasses. “I’ve seen you around before,” he said slowly. “You’re always stealing stuff from that corner shop,” _

_ Eighty let out a sheepish laugh at this. “Yeah, I do that,” he smirked. “You’re rather bad at it,” he points out. The boy’s ears flushed red and he lowered his switchblade, still keeping his eyes on Eighty. There was a little stare-off here, with Eighty’s laid-back smile and the boy’s suspicious eyes.  _ _   
_ _ “Is- is that a limited BedWars keychain?” Purpled said from behind Eighty, peeking out from his hiding spot behind a wall. The boy flushed red and puffed up with pride, holding up his switchblade and brandishing it too close for Eighty’s comfort. From the handle hung a small rainbow keychain with the silver numbers ‘1000’ engraved into it.  _

_ “Yeah,” he said smugly as Purpled drew closer, face etched in awe. “Given to the first twenty players to 1000 stars- I’m the seventeenth.” _

_ “Cool!” Purpled gushed and poked at the shiny keychain. “I never got to play,” he rubbed at his worn-out purple sleeves and Eighty knew what he meant. Purpled was orphaned and never had access to modern technology until he met Eighty, who spoiled him with funds he leeched from cash registers and cabinets.  _

_ “I played for a few years before I, uh,” the boy grew silent at this. “I ran away from home,” he muttered, looking down at the floor. Eighty’s face frowned in sympathy and leaned down to the kid’s level.  _ _   
_ _ “We’re all the same,” he said quietly. “Which is why we all look out for each other. You’re always welcome to join us,” he didn’t mention the fact that Astelic and Purpled ran away from their orphanage, or how he grew up in the streets himself. It wasn’t necessary to convince the boy, because he perked up and gave a small smile.  _

_ “I’m Sammy,” he said at last. Eighty felt his face stretch out in a smile as well and stood upright again.  _

_ “I’m Eighty, and this is Purpled and Astelic,” Eighty introduced, pointing at the two children beside him in turn. Purpled waved cheerfully, and Astelic let out a snobby ‘hmph’ and turned away, sparing Sammy a withering glance. She clearly didn’t appreciate the stunt Sammy pulled on Eighty earlier, and crossed her arms annoyedly to show it. Sammy’s smile fell at this, but Eighty put a hand on his shoulder and whispered, “Astelic’s super bossy, just ignore her,” _

_ Astelic fumed and stomped on the ground, beginning to yell about how she was  _ not  _ bossy and how Eighty was lying to the new guy. Eighty simply grinned like a dork- he was used to this life, and he loved every second of it. _

**———**

_ They met Deo barely a year later through Sammy, who claimed he met Deo because of their shared favourite streamer, TommyInnit. As always, Purpled liked him right away, always bubbly and bouncing. Astelic took some more time and gave Deo the cold shoulder for a few days before Deo cut her apple slices, then she started warming up to him. And Eighty? He was always willing to allow someone new into the family.  _

_ They were gathered around a campfire one night on a campsite they snuck into and were roasting cheap marshmallows over the flames. Deo pointed out the halo over Purpled’s head and asked about his quirk, and that started a discussion about their quirks. “I get this halo over my head that I can throw at people like a frisbee,” Purpled explained, plucking it out from the spot over his head and tossing it to Eighty, who caught it easily. “The power of it depends on my condition at the time, and when I get too injured to fight anymore, it’ll start to crack and eventually explode as its last move. Then it turns fragile and gray and will remind that way until I’m all patched up,” Purpled waved his hand, and the halo ripped itself from Eighty’s grip and floated back on top of Purpled’s head. _

_ “My turn!” Sammy called out, clapping his hands together excitedly. “I can make, like, clones of whoever I want as long as they’re being a dick at the moment. So, like, if they start being toxic then bam! The clones appear! And they help me fight! But after a while, I start being an asshole to my teammates too, and that’s never pleasant. Then eventually they just crumble to the ground,” he finishes by making a waterfall motion with his hands. _

_ “How about you, Deo?” Eighty spoke up. Deo, who took off his sunglasses a long time ago, grinned drummed his fingers on the log he sat on.  _ _   
_ _ “It’s not that special,” said the teenager bashfully. “I just give a huge power boost to me and whoever I want, like a really big power boost to their quirks and natural abilities. I can only use it every few hours though, it has a dumb cooldown,” _

_ Eighty smiled gently. “That’s not a bad quirk! Don’t be shy. It’ll be really helpful the next time we run into those stupid gangsters,” he reached over and slapped Deo on the shoulder. “Anyway, you’ve all seen mine,” a piece of the campfire slipped away and morphed into a dragon, which flew around the air in a ring around the five of them, leaving a trail of flame behind it. “I can make dragons out of water, fire, wind, snow, you know the drill. I don’t know what happens when I use it too long, but all I know is that they’re super sick,” he smiled, pleased with himself. The dragon gave one last twirl and dove straight back into the fire, and it looked like nothing had happened as the blaze continued to crackle and smoke normally. Sammy gave a mocking clap as Astelic whistled sharply.  _ _   
_ _ “I’m quirkless,” says Astelic casually, throwing back her hair. “But that doesn’t stop me from beating anyone up, does it?”  _

_ Purpled and Sammy let out roars of laughter and Eighty chuckled; the three of them knew how much Astelic could do even without a quirk. Eighty looked to Deo, who was giving an odd sort of smile. “Also, Purpled,” Astelic continued, narrowing his eyes at his friend. “Your marshmallow is burning,”  _

_ Purpled turned to the marshmallow skewered onto his stick that he let hover over the fire way too long and now had flames engulfing the fluffy white treat and let out a whine, dropping the skewer on the ground. The four of them laughed, and Eighty smiled so hard that his cheeks hurt. He felt like he was the happiest man in the world.  _

**———**

_ The city was silent and had an air of fear around it and it was all because of the new villain who obnoxiously called himself the Ender Dragon, to Eighty’s amusement. He laughed out loud when he read the headline on the television in the electronics shop, much to the old shopkeeper’s confusion. “What a disgrace,” he whispered to his friends when he got back with Astelic’s new phone and told them all about what he saw. “Apparently, he targets quirkless people. What an ass,” At this, Astelic stopped playing with her phone and stiffened, face turning white. Purpled immediately went to comfort her, and Eighty glanced to her. “It’s okay, Astelic,” Deo said quickly, patting her shoulder. “We won’t let anything happen to you, m’kay?” _

_ Astelic nodded shakily and Eighty immediately felt bad for scaring her. “Wanna go get ice cream?” he offered awkwardly, and Astelic brightened up, nodding quickly.  _

_ They walked down the streets towards the ice cream parlour. Sammy, Astelic, and Purpled struck up a conversation about BedWars again and how the upgrades update completely ruined the OG lineup of upgrades. Deo jumped into the conversation once in a while to either disagree or agree with their opinions, and Eighty walked in silence. He didn’t know why, but he felt like they were being watched, but every time he turned around to check there would be no one there.  _

_ Astelic got strawberry ice cream, Sammy took vanilla (much to Purpled’s disappointment and shame), and Purpled got mint chocolate chip. They were sitting outside at the glass tables near a comfy fire pit with big crackling flames and Purpled and Sammy started a rowdy debate on whether or not the miner fatigue nerf was necessary or not and Deo agreeing with Purpled, saying it wasn’t necessary at all and Astelic saying it was. Eighty just watched them argue with an amused quirk at his lips. _

_ “Are you Astelic?” _

_ The five of them turned around to face a man with a black face mask and deep violet eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, Eighty saw Purpled touching the corner of his eye gingerly. The man had a black bucket hat on and a long beige cloak. The first thing that Eighty thought was danger.  _

_ “Yes,” Astelic responded carefully, standing up from her seat. The rest of them automatically stood up as well, ready to either use their quirk or draw a weapon. He noticed Sammy’s wrists swirling with green mist, Purpled’s halo growing brighter than usual, and Deo having a hand in his pocket where he knew there was a pocket knife.  _

_ Eighty blinked, and there was a blast of black smoke that erupted from beneath the man’s cloak. He heard coughing from around him and he held his breath, eyes widening. This was the Ender Dragon, the man who attacked so many quirkless citizens and slipped from the grasps of authorities too many times.  _

_ The smoke finally dispersed, and the man stood there without his cloak. He had a sleek black t-shirt on with belts and buckles latched around him. Glowing violet orbs were hanging from his belt and he also held one in his hand, examining it carefully.  _

_ “That’s another one to the collection,” he whispered softly before turning around and starting to walk away. With a start, Eighty realized Astelic was gone. _

_ The roar of a dragon sounded across the streets and the Ender Dragon turned around sharply before being swallowed down by an entity made of fire. When the dragon passed through, the villain stood there, charred and burned but still standing. The violet orb in his hand was now rolling down the street, and Purpled dashed forward to pick it up but the man snatched it up before him. “Where is she?” he screamed hysterically, his halo smashing into the Ender Dragon’s stomach, making the older man double over in pain. _

_ “In a place far worse than death,” he smiled sadistically. The halo knocked into the villain again and Purpled reached for the orb for no avail, being kicked away by the man. _

_ “Purpled!” Sammy and Eighty cried out simultaneously. An exact copy of the Ender Dragon but in various shades of green crawled out of the clouds of green that Sammy made and rushed forward to aid Purpled. With a start, Eighty felt full of energy and his dragon grew far bigger than he originally made it. Purpled’s halo began to fly around at such insane speeds that the Ender Dragon couldn’t dodge and the copies of him charged him faster as well. Deo was breathing heavily beside him, his hands shaking. _

_ Eighty saw the man slash at Purpled with a knife and felt rage overcome him. The dragon let out a deafening roar and charged the villain once again, snapping its jaws and lighting the buildings it passed into flames. The purple orb that supposedly trapped Astelic was hanging from the Ender Dragon’s belt stubbornly, refusing to budge even when its owner was being knocked around. _

No.  _ Eighty was wrong to use that word. Astelic wasn’t owned by anyone, and certainly not that scumbag of a human. _

**———**

_ “Ready to give her up?” Purpled drawled shakily.  _

_ The man spit out some blood and chuckled hoarsely. “Absolutely not,” _

_ The dragon was breathing smoke and flames behind Eighty, who was holding a dagger with a gold-encrusted handle to his throat. The blade was pressed again the flesh and Eighty wanted to just slice it open. _

_ “Kill me, I dare you!” the Ender Dragon whispered maniacally, and Eighty knew that only he heard it. “Then you’ll never see her again! Haha!” Eighty pressed the blade against the man’s throat even harder, blood starting to leak from a thin shallow slice it made, but not deep enough to do real damage.  _

_ The dragon let out a horrific roar and started to blow flames all around. Eighty turned around to see it and saw it twisting in what seemed to be  _ agony  _ and smashing into concrete buildings and glass windows. “The hell?” Deo whispered, staring at his own hands but knowing his quirk effects wore off a long time ago. Eighty waved an arm to destroy the dragon, but to his horror, it stayed in the air.  _

_ “Eighty! Move!” he heard Sammy scream just as a burst of flames was blown towards him by the creature he made with his own hands. He leapt out of the way just as the flames hit the Ender Dragon, cooking him to a crisp. Rough screams of pain came from the body as Eighty watched in horror.  _

_ When the flames dispersed, the body was burned black and smoking still. The dragon was gone as well, the line of flames being its dying breath. Yet, the fires it made remained. Sirens sounded in the distance as Purpled and Sammy rushed forward to the body, looking for the purple orb.  _

_ The world was crashing around Eighty because Astelic could not be gone. There was no way, the Ender Dragon only said those words to rile him up. He was sure that Astelic would pop out from behind a building or something, laughing at him for believing she was gone. “Where’s Astelic?” Purpled said, at last, turning to Eighty expectantly.  _

_ “She’s- she’s-” Eighty stammered.  _

_ “Stop fooling around, Eighty, where’s Astelic!” Purpled shouted, standing up from where he was crouched over the Ender Dragon’s burnt corpse. Sammy stood up as well, panic in his eyes. The sunglasses he usually wore broke in the battle and he didn’t seem to care. _

_ “Yeah! Where is she? He’s dead, so she should be back!” He said. Eighty wanted to tell them the truth, the words that the Ender Dragon had told him moments before the villain’s death. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell them, his lips were numb and he couldn’t speak. _

_ “Astelic?” Purpled whipped around, calling for his friend. “Astelic? ASTELIC!” he began to pace around, calling for a friend that would never answer. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, eighty's backstory is out. ive wanted to write this for so long, omg


	22. Arc Three: Part Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream blinks then gave a wide smile. This was his chance. This was his shot to number one. He thanked the heavens for this offer before answering, “Yes sir.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> id like to apologize for the lackluster chapter and how long it took for this to come out. regardless, i hope u enjoy

[fanart by @pigandciu on insta](https://imgur.com/a/v8LWMEB)

“You want me to hunt down TimeDeo?”

The agent in front of him nodded gravely, pushing his dark sunglasses up. Dream found himself mirroring the action, pushing his mask further up his face so that it showed the lower half of his mouth. “What about Technoblade?” The hero asked, staring at the agent through the mechanical eyes of his mask which gave him a view wider than that of a regular human’s. “He must be injured from the consecutive fights with Purpled, Sammy, and Eighty. He won’t be able to put up much of a fight,” 

The agent shook his head, sighing. “We have no idea where he is. However, we’ve finally traced NOLIFE’s hideout, which was an abandoned warehouse a few minutes away from the city. If we ambushed it with a team and a hero or two, NOLIFE would be all jailed. We won’t be able to focus on Technoblade if that lowlife gang was still around,” he explained. Dream nodded slowly.

“Sure, is anyone else coming?” He drawled, pushing his mask up higher with a finger. 

“No, but if you think you need help, then we can definitely pull another Netherite-“

“No, I don’t think I do,” Dream cut the agent off. This was  _ his  _ time to shine, not anyone else’s. Even if he didn’t move up a spot or two, his public rating would, and eventually, he’ll rise to the top. A smile spread across his face- him on the number one podium at the annual ranking assembly. Him being handed the golden award of number one by a smiling announcer. Him being known worldwide instead of just in America. He could see the bright lights in his face, could see the looks of envy his competition would give as he wore a huge grin.

“Dream?” The agent’s voice cut him out of his fantasies. “You are meeting the team here at 9 pm, got that?” 

Dream blinks then gave a wide smile. This was his chance. This was his shot to number one. He thanked the heavens for this offer before answering, “Yes sir.” 

**———**

“That’s amazing!” George exclaimed, clapping him on the back as Sapnap smirked proudly, crossing his arms. “I- Dream, that’s amazing!” George repeated breathlessly, beaming. “This is your chance! This is-“

“-my shot,” Dream finished, taking his mask off as soon as he entered the house. “I know,”

“You know, you told us you weren’t stopping at number ten as soon as you were announced as it,” Sapnap piped up, pride showing from behind a mocking grin. “Guess you really aren’t,” 

“And he’s not stopping any time soon!” George laughs, locking the door behind him and falling onto the couch. Sapnap sat down beside him. George stood up straight abruptly, still smiling. “I’m gonna make tea for us!” He shouts before dashing into the kitchen like an excited puppy. Sapnap’s gaze followed him before turning back to Dream and beckoning for him to sit with him. He complied and took a seat next to his friend.

“So, big shot,” Sapnap droned, swinging an arm around Dream’s shoulders lazily. “What comes after the ambush?” 

The hero chuckled, leaning back into his friend’s arm slightly. “Assuming I don’t die, I dunno, really. Don’t worry, I won’t die,”

In the background, there was the sound of George filling the kettle with water. Sapnap paused before turning to Dream with dark eyes. The change of demeanour startled Dream, from a sarcastic lazy friend to brooding and perceptive. Sapnap leaned in, forcing Dream to lean back sharply. His eyes were narrowed.

“You won’t die,” Sapnap echoed. “Is that right? You won’t die because there’s so much to do. When will it be enough for you? You’ve come so far, you got the fame you always wanted, your name will be etched in the books. Fame was all it was about in the beginning, right?”

Dream gulped, looking to the side to try to avoid the stormy eyes his friend had. It sent chills down his spine like those eyes were staring into his soul and learning all of his secrets. “W-what do you mean?” He stammered.

Sapnap let out a hollow laugh. “I’ve been your friend for years, I’ve known you before you decided to be a hero. I’m not stupid, I’m not blinded by the ‘goodwill’ of heroes. It’s never about saving the people, it’s not about the lives, it’s about fame, isn’t that right?”

“He’s right,” called a voice from the kitchen. George was standing there, his face contorted into disgust, kettle in hand. “We see past the lies, Dream. When will you stop telling them?”

“Hah!” A deep voice laughed maliciously from the door. Dream whipped around and saw Technoblade there with his sword in hand, blood splattered all over his clothes and blade. “It’s not, it never was about the citizens. You heroes don’t care and are useless when it comes to villains like me. What do you have to say to that? Dream?”

“Dream! Answer us, are we correct?”

“Dream-“

_ “Dream!” _

He blinked, and Techno was gone. There was a hand on his shoulder that pulled him around to look at Sapnap, who looked concerned. George was beside him too with a set of teacups arranged on a tray in his hands. Both pairs of eyes were on him, concern and worry in them. Sapnap removed his hand from Dream’s shoulder and prodded him in the cheek with a finger. “You alright?”

Dream swallowed. “Fine and dandy.”

**———**

“It’s empty,” 

The guns his teammates held were starting to be lowered, but Dream held his hand up. “Don’t lower your guns! Search every corner of his place, he could be hiding,” he spat, the green smoke around him flaring and growing. The men and women dressed in black gear nodded and scattered in duos, leaving Dream to search the main room himself. “Oh… Deo…!” He called sweetly, trodding forward warily.

In the middle of the room, there was a coffee table with many cracks and tape on it. In front of it, a patched red couch with a stuffed bulldog sitting on it. As Dream moved closer, he noticed the plush was wearing a nametag that read ‘Plumpy’. He had to stop himself from smiling at the childish name.

_ You could die, Dream. Grow up.  _ He told himself before exploring the room further. A bundle of instant ramen packages laid behind the couch with a box of plastic cutlery beside it. A figurine was laid on the floor carelessly- TedNivison's Herotooz in perfect condition. No dents, no broken off limbs, it laid there peacefully. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in days.

Dream couldn’t stop his hand from trembling when he brushed his finger over the coffee table and found a layer of dust coating the tops.  _ The place hadn’t been touched in days. _

The fight between Techno and Eighty occurred a week and a half ago. Deo must’ve made a run for it or went to fight Techno himself. Dream bit his lip as he thought of the destruction that would rain down on wherever their chosen battlefield would be. 

He paced around the room worriedly before hearing a crunch under his foot. There was a wrinkled square of paper- a photo, he realized, black and white with low quality. Dream picked it up gently, giving a useless attempt to smooth it out before he looked properly. There were five people, three in the front and two in the back. Purpled had peace signs held up in front of the camera and a toothy smile, Sammy beside him and trying to shove him out the way. Behind them were Deo and Eighty, looking exhausted but grinning cheekily with an arm over each other’s shoulders. Finally, at the side of Sammy, there was a dark-haired girl with a face captured in a laugh. Her eyes were closed and crinkled, her mouth was smiling and open, and she seemed to be trying to pull Sammy back futilely. She wore a dark hoodie with a light bow on her chest. 

Scrawled over the photo were five signatures and date in red pen,  _ March 2067,  _ two years ago, the same colour of red shaded what seemed to be Deo’s signature over his chest. A silver signature was written over Eighty’s head neatly, and over Purpled’s chest was a messily written ‘Purpled’ in violet. Sammy’s signature was in dark pine green, and the last one was in pink and next to the girl’s face. In beautiful cursive, Dream made out the word.

“‘Astelic,’” he murmured out. He heard the word before, maybe in a news article, but now wasn’t the time to think about the mystery girl. Deo was gone, and he could be anywhere.

**———**

“I was wondering when you would show up,” Techno polished his blade and stepped out the shadows like he was the antagonist in an anime. Deo’s jaw dropped when he saw that Techno had no injuries at all. No burn marks, no gashes, and the only injury were the crossed scars that ran down his cheeks, and even those seemed a little bit more healed than in the photos. “My wounds?” He echoed Deo’s thoughts and rubbed a thumb over his jawbone and grinned. “Traves fixed it up for me. I had to disguise myself a lot, I wore this nice pig mask and let my arms show and he didn’t hesitate to heal me. He’s a nice kid,” said Techno almost fondly. 

Deo stayed silent and glared at Techno, who twirled his sword around, the blade slicing through the air dangerously close to his throat. 

“Y’know, he looked really upset. Wonder why?” The pink-haired terror hummed. Deo stilled- both of them knew exactly who he was talking about. “Maybe it’s because two of his family fell in a battle that they probably weren’t permitted to fight? Hell, I felt kinda bad for the guy,” he scoffed as if he was laughing at his own emotions. Techno looked up and stared at Deo blankly like he was noticing him for the first time. “You should look sadder, don’t you care for him?”

Something snapped. “Shut up!” Deo snarled, clenching his fists tightly. “You- fucking- you know nothing-“ his voice trailed off at his enemy’s knowing look. His breaths came out ragged and uneven, his body felt heavier than it should.

“Do I?” Techno muttered.

“You don’t!” Deo screamed, his sunglasses falling from his face and onto the ground. “You know nothing- you kill, you  _ only  _ kill, you- you aren’t a villain with a reason, you’re a villain because you want to be a villain!”

“Am I now?” Techno whispered.

The alleyway was silent save for the crickets chirping and Deo’s heavy breathing. Techno was sitting on a pipe, the tip of his sword planted into the ground. He was dangerously calm, staring down at the ground and his bangs falling over his eyes. Deo thought that maybe he would stay still long enough for Deo to slit his throat.

“No,” the terrorist answered after a long pause. “No, I’m not,” 

They were simple words that bore so much history in them. Deo longed to know the story behind the villain and he felt like asking, but Techno hopped off the pipe and tossed his sword up before snatching the handle right out the air. Deo drew his own sword, iron and sturdy but not nearly as fancy as Techno’s diamond blade. The two men stared at each other in some sort of sick staring contest before Techno blinked and smiled almost sadly. 

“Well. Should we begin?”


	23. The Tommy Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy prodded at the camera until it came into focus, showing him in a plane at the window seat. He had a small smile on and was squirming in his seat excitedly. “November 2, 2068. US Vlog, the prelude!” he said, hushed, keeping his voice low so the other passengers wouldn’t hear. A brown-haired boy with blue eyes poked his face into the camera view just to be shoved away by Tommy obnoxiously. 

[fanart, by @prinprinter on insta (of the villain tommy au)](https://imgur.com/5JEZXUK)

[fanart, by @pigandciu on insta (of dream)](https://imgur.com/s4ej6R4)

_ Eleven days ago. _

“Is this thing on?” 

Tommy prodded at the camera until it came into focus, showing him in a plane at the window seat. He had a small smile on and was squirming in his seat excitedly. “November 2, 2068. US Vlog, the prelude!” he said, hushed, keeping his voice low so the other passengers wouldn’t hear. A brown-haired boy with blue eyes poked his face into the camera view just to be shoved away by Tommy obnoxiously. 

“Move, Tubbo, this is my vlog!” 

“This is our vlog, you snob! Tubbo snaps back, shoving him away again so that Tommy was pressed against the windows. Tommy let out a growl and snatched the camera from Tubbo’s hands. 

“We’re on our way to the US right now,” he told the camera. “Probably not the best time with all the villain attacks, but Tubbo really wanted to go, so I went with him. We’re gonna meet a ton of heroes, ladies and gents, lots and lots of heroes!” He grinned toothily, and Tubbo moved the camera to face him. 

“Wilbur Soot! Dream! Philza! Tune in for the rest of the video to see them!” Tommy smirked and gave a peace sign before ending the recording. He tucked the camera into his backpack and pressed his hands to the window, looking outside. “Eleven-hour flight, here we go,” he mumbled under his breath. Tubbo leaned his head against the plane seat and closed his eyes, sighing deeply. 

“On the bright side, we can watch movies,” he hummed. “Let’s watch Alvin and the Chipmunks,” 

“Again?” Tommy groaned, but leaned into his friend’s side regardless and watched as Tubbo started playing the movie on the screen before them.

**———**

“Here’s our hotel room,” Tommy said, panning the camera to view the entire room. It was pretty standard- two beds with pristine white sheets, the walls painted light beige, three or four lamps with more lights in the ceilings… one wall was an entire window, there were a bathroom and kitchen and a big TV on the wall right in front of the two beds. Tubbo sat on one of the beds cross-legged, hugging a bee plushie close to his chest and beaming at the camera awkwardly. 

“The bed is comfy,” he commented.

“My dad is in the room right next to ours, don’t worry guys. We didn’t come here alone! We’ll probably be with heroes a lot of the time, though,” Tommy winked at the camera before striding over the windows, showing the city view. It was nighttime and the moon was in the first quarter and was half-covered by grey clouds. The lights from all the buildings and street lights glittered in the dark. “Tomorrow, we go to Hollywood… and we have a special guest coming with us! But right now, Tubbo’s a bitch and he’s tired from the flight, so we’re gonna go to sleep. Goodnight!” The recording ended, and Tommy turned to Tubbo with a smirk. “We’re totally not gonna sleep right now.”

“We totally are,” Tubbo refuted, already rummaging through his luggage for sleepwear. “I’m too tired to watch another movie, we watched tons on the flight,” 

Tommy frowned and sat on his own bed. To tell the truth, he was also a little tired. “Yeah, I guess, we need to save up our energy for tomorrow!” he grinned, looking back to the windows at the night sky. “I can’t wait to meet Wilbur!”

**———**

The three of them strolled down Hollywood Boulevard, talking rapidly. Tubbo handled the camera and filmed as they talked. Wilbur was wearing his glasses and occasionally stopped to wave at fans. Of course, neither Tommy nor Tubbo went unrecognized either with the size of their YouTube and Twitch channels. The trio was followed by a crowd of fans with every step. Tubbo panned the camera to show the fans behind them, and a few of them began squealing and waving to the lens.   
“We’re famous!” he snickered and blew kisses at his fans, who tried to catch them wildly. Wilbur stopped to sign some autographs, so Tommy did too. Tubbo moved the camera to view the street and grinned. Shiny stars decorated the sidewalk in front of them with names engraved in them and the path continued for many blocks. “Guys, look, the Walk of Fame…” 

“I wonder if any heroes have stars on here,” Tommy pondered as he finished signing a little boy’s backpack with a black Sharpie. Wilbur rolled his eyes and laughed, turning back to the two teenagers.   
“Course not,” he scoffed with a smile on his lips. “We’re not entertainers, we’re heroes. There’s a hero monument in New York though and I’m on there,” Wilbur smiled at the thought, and Tubbo shoved the camera in his face.    
“You must be pretty proud of yourself then!” he whistled as Wilbur nudged the camera away with a nod. The two teenagers laughed and continued walking, trying to film everything they saw as a train of fans followed excitedly.

**———**

The screen flickered on to see a magnificent building with a large white smiley face a few feet above the fancy doors, the green ribbons that were tied to the base of the face flapping in the wind. In big, bronze, blocky letters on the roof spelling out the words, “DT AGENCY”. The screen stayed still for a few seconds save for the wavering of the camera in Tubbo’s hands before it turned back to Tommy who was staring up at the building in awe, mouth slightly open. “Excited?” Tubbo sniggered and Tommy began nodding feverishly. 

“You should be,” came a familiar rasp. The camera whirled around and faced a figure in a green hoodie, the motion blur causing the facial features to be unrecognizable. Tubbo let out a shriek and covered the lens with his hands.    
“Dream! Put on your mask, we’re filming, we’re filming!” hissed Tommy, the camera still dark and covered. There was a hearty laugh and a shuffle before Tubbo removed his hands to show Dream, the number 10 hero, in a lime green hoodie and a snow-white signature mask covering his face, his dirty blond hair peeking out from under the mask. He waved towards the two teenage boys and the two returned the gesture.

“So, welcome to my agency,” he drawled lazily, walking towards them and pressing badges into their chest. “Pin these to your clothes or just hold them, this will make sure you don’t set off the alarms when you go anywhere higher than the first floor.”

Tommy immediately pinned it to his shirt and Tubbo scrambled to follow as the three walked into the building. The front lobby was similar to that of a hotel’s but a little bigger and no dining room. It was half-packed with people taking pictures of the photos and paintings on the walls, flipping through brochures on different heroes, and lounging in the couches on one side of the room. The receptionist looked rather bored and was nonchalantly answering questions at the desk. He wore a headband and had dark eyes and hair. His skin was tanned and he had his cellphone in one hand and a telephone in the other. A stack of papers sat beside him that he handed out to a few people who took it eagerly and a few Herotooz were sitting before him at the desk, one of which was knocked over. The man turned his eyes towards them and a smile tugged at his lips, but he looked away when the telephone began ringing.

“Sapnap, my friend and one of my receptionists,” Dream mumbled, tugging his hoodie hood over his head to avoid being seen. He grabbed Tubbo and Tommy by their wrists and tugged them towards a private elevator which he unlocked with a silver key. He slipped in just as a little girl stopped sucking on her lollipop and pointed at them.

“Look mommy, it’s Dream!” she squealed, catching the attention of nearby civilians. Thankfully, the elevator door closed before someone could jam themselves into the small area. The elevator began lifting itself to the second floor as Tommy continued mumbling in excitement to the camera.

“This is so sick, man, this is amazing…”

Tubbo noticed Dream smile at that as the elevator doors opened, showing a room full of office workers. A few of them waved at Dream hastily and a couple bowed deep before hurrying back to their cubicles with a cup of coffee in their hands. 

The tour went smoothly. Dream showed them the two floors of training rooms for aspiring young heroes, a meeting room for… well, meetings, a room with a lot of people trying to repairing support items, a kitchen and a lounge on a floor and above that three floors of living quarters with a couple of heroes talking to each other. Finally, they got into the elevator for the tenth floor. Tubbo’s hands on the camera were shaky and Tommy’s eyes were still wide with wonder. 

Suddenly, Dream snatched the camera from Tubbo and saved the recording before turning it off swiftly. “Stop filming for this bit,” he said simply and jabbed the button to the tenth floor.

With a ding, the elevator stopped and the doors slid open.

The room was open with only two separate rooms that looked to be a bedroom and a bathroom. One wall was entirely a window and gave the view of Los Angeles and another wall had two corkboards with coloured strings stretched from nail to nail. There were a few images of Technoblade, an image of TimeDeo, Eighty, Purpled, and Sammy respectively with a blurry picture of a girl next to them, a photograph of a burnt down building next to one that seemed to be the same but not destroyed, several slips of paper with Dream’s writing scrawled across… 

In front of the corkboard, couch with a bookshelf and lamp next to it. Before the couch, there was a coffee table with many papers spread out across it, a few spilling onto the floor even. Many seemed typed, but many had the messy scrawl of Dream’s handwriting over it too. The final asset to the assortment was a television that was turned off.

A large digital map hung from the ceiling that showed California, though you could obviously zoom out. Confusing settings were on one side and there were many red stars and dots scattered across the state and many blue ones too. Tubbo couldn’t help himself but move forward and brush his finger over the screen.

“Most heroes have a map like this,” Dream’s voice soft voice came from behind him. “You can personalize settings, and I made my own. The red dots are Technoblade sightings, the stars his attacks. The blue versions are for NOLIFE,” he appeared next to Tubbo and pressed down on one of the red stars and an image with a description popped up, It showed a destroyed building half-burnt black- the image that had circulated the web many months ago. Technoblade’s first attack on a small local orphanage. The caption read the death toll, time, location, a list of heroes who attempted to handle it, and the offender.

Tommy began to explore the room further, though the rest wasn’t nearly as exciting as the map or the mess of papers. There was a desk with a computer setup that looked both suitable for work and gaming, a fridge and a cabinet of snacks, two speakers on the walls, but that was about it. “Woah!” Tommy whipped around to see Dream dragging Tubbo away from the corkboard. “That’s private, don’t touch that,” he snapped before drawing a black blanket over it for the time being. Tubbo cocked his head, confused. 

“What’s on it?” the brown-haired boy asked curiously. Dream laughed and turned back to them with a grin behind his mask and gave them a long stare before walking to his fridge. 

“Nothing. Do you want some juice?”   
**———**

“Ah, it’s already been two days in LA if you don’t count the night we got here,” 

Tubbo nodded and took a bite of his ice cream bar. It was nighttime after a long day of vlogging with Dream as a special guest. The two boys were roaming the city now that the streets are a little less busy, both of them wearing a hoodie with the hood pulled up to avoid being recognized by a fan. Tubbo took another bite of his ice cream and followed Tommy as the two walked. 

“Dream’s office was so cool,” Tommy gushed with a twinkle in his eye. “I wish I could go back there! Too bad he didn’t let us film,” he pouted. Tubbo giggled and nodded in agreement. 

“Going to Hollywood with Wilbur wasn’t bad either. Wilbur’s really nice!” Tubbo stated with a toothy grin. 

“I’m totally gonna come back here next summer if I can,” Tommy agreed.

The two continued on their stroll, chattering nonstop about an endless list of topics. They went from Minecraft to food to America to food again, then all over. The streets of LA were still quite busy at night- understandably so when night strolls are so breezy and nice. 

“Did you hear that?” Tommy suddenly piped up just as Tubbo tossed his popsicle stick into a nearby trash can. Tubbo turned and looked around quickly before glaring at Tommy.    
“No?” Tubbo answered, crossing his arms. “Are you trying to scare me?”

“No!” Tommy refuted, pressing a finger to Tubbo’s lips and turning his eyes to a dark alleyway that they stood in front of. “I heard something! It came from there!”   
“Probably just a raccoon or a rat, or something… no, Tommy, c’mon!” Tubbo protested as Tommy began to walk down the alleyway energetically, disappearing into the darkness. Tubbo bit his lip, looked around restlessly, then followed his friend hesitantly. “Tommy! I’m not sure you should do this…”

Tommy ignored him and continued walking, glancing around frantically. There was an overturned trashcan with a rat skittering out of it and a series of muddy footprints leading from the streets down the concrete, a cloaked figure with a suitcase walking in front of them. Tommy stopped and moved backwards. “Uh… yeah, let’s go back to the main roads…”

Tubbo huffed and nodded, seizing his friend’s arm and starting to move back when suddenly the figure turned around and darted towards them. Tubbo squealed and scrambled backwards as the man grabbed Tommy’s shoulders wildly, pushing his friend up against the wall. Tommy hissed as the man glared at him before seemingly realizing who he found. “Tommy?” The man had fluffy brown hair and a pair of sunglasses that hid his eyes. He was taller than Tubbo but slightly shorter than Tommy and had a badly hid knife under the long cloak.

“Who are you?! Go away!” Tommy snapped. The man released his hold on the teenager’s shoulders, backing off a little but keeping a hold on the blond’s wrist tightly. 

“You can talk to ghosts, right?!” the man asked, breathing heavily. 

“You can what?!” Tubbo wheeled around to look at Tommy incredulously, who looked just as shocked as Tubbo. Tommy began spluttering, eyes wide and still. 

“Wh- how did you know that?!”

The man didn’t answer and bit his lip, leaning away. “C-can you talk to Astelic? Please, I want to know where she is, how did she- when- talk to her, please-” he cried hysterically and Tubbo saw the hesitation and pity in Tommy’s eyes. “Please… her name is…” the man trailed off into a whisper and Tommy perked up, closing his eyes and letting out a shaky breath.

A few moments passed over with no answer from Tommy. The man seemed restless now, his grip on Tommy’s wrist tightening. “Is she there? I know you can- she’s there, right?” he begged once more. Tubbo was frozen, an indescribable amount of shock and fear flooding through him. His friend could talk to ghosts? Was that his quirk? It couldn’t be possible… he always thought Tommy was quirkless. After all, he never answered questions about his quirk and refused to reveal it. 

“Sh-she’s not dead,” Tommy’s voice cut through Tubbo’s thoughts. The man stilled and took a step back.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m n-not,” protested Tommy, twisting his wrist from the man’s grip and scrambling back to Tubbo’s side, cowering behind his much shorter friend. “I promise, I- she’s not dead,” he whimpered as the man continued staring at him with a blank expression before finally heaving a breath. The two terrified teenagers watched as he picked up his suitcase and continued to walk down the alley, his silhouette growing smaller and smaller before it disappeared around the corner.

“I’ve never told anyone my quirk before,” Tommy finally breathed, eyes wide and skin pale. “Never. I’ve only told- I thought he was  _ dead. _ ”


	24. Arc Three: Chapter Ten

[fanart, by @pigandciu on insta](https://imgur.com/5Jzj1so)

[more fanart, also by @pigandciu on insta](https://imgur.com/a/1gYg3Cf)

**———**

Deo knew how strong Techno was. He’s heard heroes talk about how one man can’t be so deadly with just a sword, laugh at the villain like he was some child, then be defeated in three seconds. Naturally, Deo learned to not underestimate him.

He took on an overhand guard. Techno watched and smirked tentatively and did the same. Deo lunged forward, sprinting towards him and throwing an overhand cut to which Techno parried smoothly, delivering back a diagonal rising cut towards Deo’s right leg. Deo deflected it with his blade and there was a short pause where the two men glared at each other with determination in their eyes. Techno leapt back and drew his blade away, swinging horizontally at Deo’s neck. Deo leaned back to avoid the blade and almost stumbled at how close the sword was to decapitating him smoothly. 

Techno repeated this motion and this time Deo was quick enough to block it with his sword. To his surprise, Techno continued pushing his sword forward, putting pressure on his blade and driving Deo up against a wall. He couldn’t dare to move his sword away from his throat or else Techno would cut through his neck and the weight against his the edge of his sword was pressing his own blade towards his throat. Deo resisted, trying to push Techno away, but the pink-haired man didn’t budge. With every still second, his blade neared his throat dangerously. 

“I’ve had fights with  _ heroes  _ longer than this,” Techno snarled with a cocky grin. Deo smiled back unconsciously, his lips stretching upwards despite himself. 

“Really?” Deo murmured before lifting his leg and driving his foot into his opponent’s solar plexus. Techno faltered, falling backwards and let out a painful groan. He immediately assumed an overhand guard and met Deo’s blade mid-swing. 

The two went back and forth, every thrust and cut made with murderous intent. They swung tirelessly, going at it for what felt like an eternity until Deo felt a sharp pain at his thigh and lurched backwards, feeling it with his empty hand for a second or two. Blood ran down his palm and in between his fingers, dazing him for a second or two. It was only until he caught Techno swinging down at him out of the corner of his eye did he come back to his senses and dodge the slice but barely. 

He drove his sword into a low thrust, catching Techno’s attention to the lower halves of their bodies and causing him to instinctively go for a block. With a twirl of his wrist, Deo compass-stepped and shifted into a moulinet and went for Techno’s head. The terrorist ducked and smirked, stepping backwards and assuming a middle neutral stance again. “Not bad,” he sneered. Deo scoffed and stepped back as well, copying his movements. “I haven’t fought this exciting ever,” 

“I could say the same,” Deo mocked, his grip on his sword tightening. Techno must’ve noticed something wrong when the NOLIFE leader struck at him again but with two times the strength of before, nearly knocking the diamond sword out of Techno’s hands. 

“You used your quirk,” the terrorist snapped, eyes gleaming mercilessly. Deo nodded in confirmation and went in for another blow. His hold on his sword was relaxed but because of his quirk effects, they were tight around the handle.

Techno was now forced to parry and block as Deo fought without yielding, driving Techno around the area like a toy. A few times Techno would try to go on the offensive and be countered easily and be forced back to cower and deflect the blows that Deo delivered.

He knew that he was close to victory when the diamond sword was hit out of Techno’s hands, flying through the air and clattering to the ground. Techno dived forward to retrieve it and grabbed it just in time to fend off another ruthless blow.

He knew that he was close to victory when two of his crosscuts hit its mark, slicing a clean gash in Techno’s forearm and another slashing the edge through Techno’s side. Techno cried out in agony and was forced to back off to recover slightly.

With a shaky breath, Deo put all of his strength into a downward strike to which Techno raised his sword to block. It pushed Techno back subtly and pressed the diamond sword back so the blade was almost brushing Techno’s nose. Deo leaned forward with his sword, both his and Techno’s arms and swords shaking from the strength they’re putting into attacking or defending. He could  _ see  _ the fear in Techno’s eyes despite the hard expression he bore and relished in it, his smirk widening. He was so distracted that he didn’t even notice his quirk wearing off.

Techno did, however, and pushed back with such force that Deo was sent scrambling backwards. With another hard strike, Deo’s sword was sent flying down the alleyway, so far that he couldn’t reach without being killed. In only two seconds, Deo lost his advantage and now had a blade pressed to his throat with nothing to defend it. He was backed against a wall, similar to before, but this time he didn’t have a sword to parry off the other. 

“That was good,” Techno breathed, the blade nearing Deo’s throat until it barely brushed against the skin. Deo felt his chest tighten as he stared at Techno defiantly. He was trapped now. There was no way out of this without certain death. His eyes darted towards the iron sword again, stained with blood and at least twelve feet away. Oh, he’s  _ really  _ fucked now. 

There was a moment of still silence with only the heavy breathing from both men. Their eyes were locked together, neither blinking and the air tense. Red eyes stared into pink and Deo wished he could say what was running through Techno’s head.

There was a pain in his lower abdomen. His eyes widened. Technos stepped away and he slid to the ground slowly, weakly raising his hand to touch the wound Techno made. There was blood dripping from Techno’s sword and also a cut right below his belly button. Blood spilled out like no tomorrow and he could also feel it start to trickle out his mouth. 

“You’ll live,” he heard Techno murmur. He could barely see the man now for now his vision was blurry. Those words echoed in his head.

He heard footsteps fading away, growing fainter and fainter until a new set of footsteps replaced them, pounding and loud and rapid. The last thing he saw before the darkness clouding his vision was a blond man with a white smiley face mask.

His sunglasses laid on the alleyway floor broken.

**———**

_ He woke up. _

_ Was this heaven? Deo looked down on himself and found no injuries. Why was heaven so familiar though? _

_ He recognized the setting now and noticed himself sitting on the floor, colouring in a car with Crayola crayons dejectedly. It was him, but not him. This version of him was younger, way younger. Maybe seven, eight tops. Children were bustling around him, playing with each other and sharing their toys. He recognized all their faces- five-year-old Emily with red curls bouncing as she bragged to the other children about her adoption, showing all her sharp teeth. He caught himself staring at her sadly before returning to his colouring sheet. _ _   
_ _ Deo watched as a blond-haired boy bounced up to himself, poking at his shoulder. He watched as the younger him jumped up and whirled around to stare at the blond, who was grinning mischievously. “Hey!” Tommy said, sitting down beside him. Deo watched as the younger Deo inched away cautiously. “Can I colour with you?” _

_ Tommy didn’t even wait for a response before snatching up a gray crayon and beginning to colour in the wheels of the car. Younger Deo paused as if to contemplate whether or not to hit the five-year-old Tommy, but relaxed and silently began to finish colouring the car orange. _

**———**

_ He watched as the younger him snuck around the corridors and tip-toed downstairs. The front door was locked, as was the back doors, but he watched as the younger Deo open the windows and climb outside, almost kicking down a vase next to the windowsill. Deo couldn’t help but smile as the younger him waved at a blond boy running down the street. The streets were dark as Tommy tackled the younger him in a hug.  _

_ “Happy birthday, Deo!” Tommy cheered when he broke away, sporting a gummy smile. Young Deo shushed Tommy hastily, looking around to see if anyone noticed before turning back to Tommy with a wide smile. “You’re nine now! How do you feel?” _

_ “Older,” young Deo said simply, causing Tommy to laugh heartily.  _

_ He watched as Tommy presented the younger him with a pair of sunglasses, explaining that it looked cool and he knew it would love them. He watched as the young him put on the sunglasses and having it fall because it was too big. He watched as Tommy went red as young Deo teased him relentlessly. _

_ “Keep it then,” he heard Tommy murmur. “Keep it until you get old. You’ll remember me that way.” _

**———**

_ Tommy got a phone when he was eight.  _

_ Deo watched as Tommy showed the young him how he could watch YouTube videos and browse social media. He showed young Deo how to take a selfie, and Deo watched as the two of them proceeded to take one in front of the big oak tree in front of Deo’s orphanage. He watched as Tommy set it as his phone background. _

**———**

_ The new kid at the orphanage was instantly well-liked. He was the same age as Deo, eleven years old, and had fluffy black hair and piercing blue eyes. For some reason, he really hated Deo.  _

_ Deo watched from afar as the boy pushed him around, laughing at his scarlet eyes. He said he looked like a vampire. He watched as young Deo took it as the other kids laughed at him, laughed at his clothes, laughed at his eyes. Then he laughed at Tommy, laughing about how Deo’s probably only with him because his family’s rich. _

_ Young Deo punched him in the nose. _

_ Deo was locked in his room for three days. He could hear Tommy crying outside at the orphanage managers who tried to explain to the young boy that Deo was locked away because he was unstable and violent. Tommy insisted that Deo was his best friend and he wanted to see him. Deo cracked a smile as Tommy continued screaming and crying until his parents ushered him away, apologizing to the orphanage managers.  _

**———**

_ As soon as Deo and Tommy met up again, Tommy hugged him tight and presented him with a bag of candy. Tommy asked why Deo was locked away, and Deo said that he didn’t need to know and bopped Tommy on the nose. Tommy giggled and began to show him all the new games on his phone and the two of them sat in Deo’s room playing games for the entire day. _

_ As soon as Tommy left, Deo realized the bag of candy Tommy gave him was missing. He looked everywhere and caught the black-haired boy snickering and spreading gumdrops to all the other children. _

_ Deo punched him in the nose again and was locked in his room for a week. This time, Tommy screamed really, really loud. Deo was stuck nibbling on gummies and peppermints. At least he got the candy back. _

**———**

_ “You need to stop getting in trouble,” Tommy huffed when Deo was finally able to talk to him again.  _

_ Young Deo only smirked and ruffled Tommy’s hair, much to the younger boy’s dismay. Tommy began whining and trying to smooth his hair out as young Deo looked away, glaring at the room across the hall. _

_ The door across the hall opened. Deo watched as the black-haired boy walked out of it with one of the brunette girls at her side and the two snarled at Deo about how much of a freak he was. When they turned their insults to Tommy, Deo got up, but Tommy was getting restless.  _

_ This time, Tommy punched the black-haired boy. _

_ He got a ban from the orphanage right there. _

**———**

_ “Why did you have to punch him?” Young Deo sighed as he climbed out of the window again, meeting Tommy in the middle of the road. Tommy crossed his arms and huffed, rolling his eyes. _

_ “Why did  _ you  _ have to punch him?” the ten-year-old fired back. Young Deo laughed and poked Tommy in the cheek before starting to talk about what they were going to do when they grew up. _

_ “We should run away together,” Tommy suggested. Young Deo looked at him and smiled wide. _

_ “We should.” _

**———**

_ They didn’t. _

**———**

_ “I’m moving to Britain,” Tommy admitted to Deo when he was twelve. Young Deo piped up and snapped his head to him, eyes wide. Deo watched as the younger him narrowed his eyes in confusion. _

_ “What?” _

_ “I’m moving to England,” Tommy stated matter-of-factly. Deo watched as young Deo processed this, looking angry, then sad, then acceptingly. Young Deo looked away and put his head down. _

_ “Oh. Okay.” _

_ “Yeah.” _

_ The two sat in silence. _

**———**

_ “You only care about yourself!” Tommy had screamed at him, pointing a finger at Deo’s chest. “You don’t care about me! You never had!” Tommy was crying, tears rolling down his cheeks. The younger him looked close to tears as well, his fists clenched and teeth gritted. _

_ Young Deo glared back, stepping backwards. “What the fuck are you on about? I never did anything wrong to you! Stop throwing a fit, you’re being such a baby!” he had snapped, crossing his arms.  _

_ “Don’t lie!” Tommy shouted pathetically, hugging himself and glancing downwards. “They told me. They told me all the shit you said about me. How I was a brat and how much you loved my money. I hope you die!” Deo had faltered, confused, thinking of when the hell he ever said that. Tommy’s hands shook as he said the last words. “All the stuff I gave you? Burn them! I’m so glad I’m moving to England- I never want to see you again!” _

_ Those were the last words Tommy ever said to him. _

_ That was also the last time he ever saw Tommy. _

**———**

Maybe that’s where he went wrong.


	25. Arc Three: Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dream! Dream! How hard was the fight with TimeDeo?”
> 
> “Dream! Dream! How do you feel after the battle with TimeDeo?”  
“Dream! Dream!”  
“Dream!”

**———**

_ “Dream defeated NOLIFE leader TimeDeo last night in a bloody battle. All members of NOLIFE have now been jailed. _

** [painting by @printtimes (insta)](https://imgur.com/a/NVcF4AD) **

** [fanart by @pigandciu (insta)](https://imgur.com/fvYhpaX) **

**———**

“Dream! Dream! How hard was the fight with TimeDeo?”

“Dream! Dream! How do you feel after the battle with TimeDeo?”   
“Dream! Dream!”   
“Dream!”

Dream pushed past the press, ignoring the annoyed mumbles stemming from the crowd as he entered the doors of his agency only to be bombarded by even more reporters. He shoved them out the way, pushing his mask up and slipping into the private elevator, silently thanking the security guards as they helped him inside. As soon as the doors closed behind him, he threw off his mask, not even bothering to pick it up when it skidded across the elevator floor.

The world was spinning, enveloping him into a world of flying colours and panic. Bile rose in his throat and he felt like throwing up. He slammed a hand to his mouth, his other hand grabbing onto the fancy handrails and holding himself steady. His heart was pounding in his chest, feeling like it was going to burst out and he didn’t even really know why. Was it the guilt that weighed Dream’s heart down or the sense of helplessness in this situation that he played himself into? 

Dream stumbled into his office and collapsed on the couch, his legs feeling like jelly and his arms shaking. 

How did this even happen? It happened that night where he and the team were searching for Deo. Dream had split up with the team for around twenty minutes or so to search through the area. He found Deo laying against an alleyway wall, a stab wound in his stomach, and a bloody iron sword twelve feet away. Unfortunately, that was exactly where the rest of the team came in.

_ You got him, Dream?  _ One of the girls said, putting down the gun that she was raising.  _ Nice job. Let’s get him patched up then put him in custody. _

He went to sleep not thinking much of it. It was George who woke him up with a dozen and a half phone calls and Dream had groggily picked it up to hear George screaming into the phone excitedly. The words he could make out half-sleep were  _ ‘battle’  _ and  _ ‘Deo’.  _ Those woke him up right away.

The first thing Dream did was to check social media and he saw so many articles that made him dizzy with confusion until he was able to read coherent sentences. ‘ _ #10 Hero Rising in Popularity After Defeating NOLIFE Leader TimeDeo Without a Scratch,’ ‘Dream Stabs TimeDeo With His Own Sword’.  _ Apparently, the internet thought he tricked TimeDeo with his illusions, took Deo’s sword when he was distracted, then stabbed him. 

And Dream didn’t deny it. Because he was asleep.

What is there to do now? Should he fess up and tell everyone that it was all a lie when it already blew up so much? He was watching his popularity grow with his own eyes. Hell, he’s been told he’s passed Cscoop and now holds number nine, and he knew he wouldn’t stop climbing. Could he handle the disappointment and hate?

His throat felt raw and tears prickled at the corners of his eyes. He hugged his head, doubling over and staring at the ground before him. Should he clear up the lies? He didn’t even know who was the one to beat Deo, so should he just take the credit? But Dream didn’t steal credit. That was Skeppy’s job.

_ Ring. Ring. Ring.  _ His phone started ringing from in his pocket. Dream pulled it out, panicked, ready to decline.

_ Ring. Ring. Ring.  _ It was Sapnap.

**———**

Sapnap loved his friends. Even if he acted sarcastic at times, he still cared for them, believed in them, confided in them. When Dream reached #10, he cried. He cried out of happiness for his friend, pat him on the back, and treated them all to dinner. 

But there were so many inconsistencies.

First of all, Dream was not a swordfighter. He had his own weapons that he preferred, his own support items that took weeks to develop because Dream wasn’t satisfied with the first ten prototypes. Sapnap’s seen Dream swordfight  _ twice  _ in the nine years he’s known him.  _ Twice.  _

And while Dream definitely excelled with his quirk, why would Deo fall for it? What would Deo fall for that would distract him enough for Dream to rip his sword out of his hands and stab him? Wouldn’t Deo have a spare weapon? And Deo had a cut on his thigh- did Dream carry around a knife that Sapnap didn’t know of? Or did Deo just fumble and cut himself? That’s impossible. 

How did Dream escape with no injuries? No cuts? No bruises? Was NOLIFE really that incompetent? Definitely not with how many heroes they’ve defeated. 

He loved his friends. But this story was too bullshit for him to believe. He needs confirmation.

**———**

Dream knew Sapnap wasn’t stupid. When he saw his best friend’s name on the phone screen, his throat closed up. He dreaded picking up. But he knew he had to. He brought the phone to his ear. Pressed ‘accept’. 

It took a few seconds for Sapnap to start speaking. “Hey, Dream,” his friend greeted in a monotone. “I suppose you’ve heard about the news?”

Dream’s mouth felt dry. He stayed silent. Sapnap let out a chuckle.

“Dream? You there?”   
The man in question snapped back to his senses. He had to say something, even he was standing on thin ice right now.    
“Hi, sorry,” Dream answered, at last, almost fumbling with his words. “What were you saying?” 

There was an amused sigh after his words and a shuffle. “You beat TimeDeo.”   
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Sapnap’s voice was curious but firm and much too scary for Dream to continue. He gripped his phone tighter, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping one arm around his legs. 

This was the time to admit everything. How he didn’t actually beat Deo. This was the time, and if he confirmed it now, this mess would be over. If he continued with the lie, there would be no backing out. His friend was waiting. This was the moment. 

“Yes.” 

There was a hum from Sapnap. Why did Dream say that? He had the words at the tip of his tongue. He could have explained it all. And now it’s gone too far. 

“Meet me at your place this evening then,” Sapnap said, a hint of surprise in his voice. “I want to hear all about it.” Then the call ended. 

Dream dropped his phone, not even bothering to check if it cracked on the floor. He buried his head in his arms, trying to slow his breath, trying to lessen the headache. There are footsteps behind him. He can’t be bothered to turn around and look to see who it is. Hopefully, it wasn’t a hero. Or George. God, please say it wasn’t George.

“Liar.”   
It’s George.

He turns around and George is standing in the doorway, frowning at him with his arms crossed. “Liar,” he repeated. “Are you happy with yourself? All those times you ranted about Skeppy for stealing credit, but the moment you get the opportunity, you snatch it up in a heartbeat. You’ve changed, Dream.”

There is a cold laugh and Sapnap steps up behind George with a disappointed, mocking grin. “What do you mean he’s changed?” Sapnap drawled, stepping closer and ahead of George, who follows closely behind. “This is how he’s been since the beginning. He wanted to be a hero because of the fame. Don’t you remember? That night when he graduated from hero school? ‘Think of all the fans I’ll get.’ All heroes are like that.”

Dream’s frozen stiff. He can’t even move. He can’t even describe the feeling he’s feeling right now. Too complicated. He hated it. Sapnap stops in front of him, George tailing him both with deathly cold expressions on their faces. Their eyes were blank and made them look dead. Dream shrank back as Sapnap leaned down with a small smile.

“Dream, oh Dream,” his long-time friend drawled. “You’re not gonna get away with this. It’ll come back to bite you in the back once you think you’ve gotten away with it,” George snickered behind them, balancing on the heels of his feet. 

“He’s right, y’know,” said George, walking forward and standing next to Sapnap, towering over Dream. Dream’s felt smaller than he’s ever felt, and he was taller than both of them for as long as he could remember. 

“They’re saying you’re the one who beat me?” There’s a voice behind him that he doesn’t recognize but with the words, Dream thinks he can imagine who it is. He doesn’t want to turn around and meet the man in the eyes. The footsteps grew closer until they stood right behind Dream. There’s a pitter-patter that sounded kind of like rainwater that made Dream instinctively turn around.

He wished he hadn’t looked.

TimeDeo stands there, broken sunglasses in one hand and the other covering his lower abdomen, where there was a deep gash. Guilt welled up inside of Dream as he stared at the man that he supposedly defeated who looked the same as he had when Dream found him last night. Blood slid down the corner of his mouth and down where it landed on the floor. Deo was ghastly pale, his red eyes dull and blank and staring into Dream’s eyes. “I was expecting something stronger than this,” Deo said quietly. 

Breathing heavily and shivering and tears rolling down his cheeks, Dream grabbed onto the first thing he felt on his desk which was the black glass vase with the pretty purple hyacinths that Sapnap gifted him a week or two back, shut his eyes, and flung it. There’s loud shattering that forced his eyes open and he caught green mist floating away out of the corner of his eyes. The fragments of the black glass slid across the floor, the water he kept the flowers in creating a reflective puddle. And oh yeah, the flowers. They laid in the water sadly. 

Dream looked around frantically. Sapnap and George were gone. Deo was gone. They were never there. He was alone.

But it looked so real. Surely hallucinations couldn’t be that realistic? Dream got up shakily, almost tripping on his own feet as he stalked over to the mess he created. He reached down and picked up the flowers. They felt wet. Water dripped through the cracks of his fingers and he crouched down, his legs giving away underneath him. His hands were quivering badly and he reached over to try to gather up the glass pieces and wincing when they sliced his fingers up. 

A drop of his blood fell into the water, tainting it red. Dream stared down at his reflection and couldn’t help but hate the person he was staring at. His cheeks were flushed red, eyes raw and puffy from crying and blood dripping from his fingers and palms. 

He messed up. He’s a mess. He’s a mess in a mess that he’s created. 

Dream let out a sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry for the long-overdue chapter :( updates will be slower bc of projects im working on and also school


	26. Arc Four: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Diamond heroes suck ass too. There’s no use complaining now, Dream beat us fair and square,” Cscoop countered. A waiter came to their table and handed them their drinks before hurrying away, face flushed. Traves sipped on his drink with a curly straw, letting out a satisfied hum. Slimecicle noticed this and jabbed a finger in his direction. 

** [fanart, by @pigandciu on insta](https://imgur.com/3THJomL) **

** [fanart, by @prinprinter on insta](https://imgur.com/6ZWIjcr) **

**———**

_ “Dream takes Slimecicle’s position as #8 and is still rapidly rising through the ranks.” _

**———**

“He did?”    
Slimecicle nodded, arms crossed and leaned back against the wall of the small coffee shop. Cscoop sighed from beside him, hands tucked in his hoodie pockets and glaring down at the ground like a child. Traves turned to the cashier, who seemed to have just noticed who they were and was staring at them shell-shocked, eyes wide.

“One small black coffee, one medium macchiato, and one medium strawberry latte with matcha whipped cream, please,” Traves ordered, taking out his wallet and picking out a twenty-dollar bill. Cscoop found a seat next to the window and let out another sigh, face curled in a frown, resembling a brooding cat. Slimecicle sat down beside him, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his Twitter feed. Traves sat down across from them, drumming his fingers on the table and looking out the windows. Despite the streets being busy, the coffee shop was empty save for the three top ten heroes at the table. He didn’t know why- this was, in his opinion, the best coffee shop in the city. He wasn’t complaining- it was nice to have some peace once in a while. 

“It’s weird though,” Slimecicle pondered, putting down his phone. “Dream seemed fine in all those press photos, no bruises or anything,”

“Deo just sucked ass then,” Cscoop laughed bitterly. Slimecicle shook his head, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. 

“No way, that’s impossible. He’s beaten Diamond heroes.”

“Diamond heroes suck ass too. There’s no use complaining now, Dream beat us fair and square,” Cscoop countered. A waiter came to their table and handed them their drinks before hurrying away, face flushed. Traves sipped on his drink with a curly straw, letting out a satisfied hum. Slimecicle noticed this and jabbed a finger in his direction. 

“He’ll beat you too, Traves,” he said with a resigned smile. “Make your predictions now- I think he’ll stop at five.”

Cscoop took a big gulp of his coffee and slammed his hand on the table, making Traves and Slimecicle jump. “Bullshit. Higher than that- I’m calling three,” he slurred with a lazy smirk across his face. 

Traves chuckled, taking another sip of his latte. “Well, now that NOLIFE’s gone, we can focus on Technoblade. He’s been rather quiet since his fight with Eighty, hasn’t he?” he commented. His two friends nodded grimly. Slimecicle sipped on his macchiato before responding, peering out the window thoughtfully. 

“Probably planning something,” he mused.

“Definitely planning something,” Cscoop added, gulping down another mouthful of his black coffee. Traves nodded reluctantly. It was the more probable option, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. How many people would die this time? He needed to be ready to lessen the casualties and save the civilians.    
He couldn’t help but think about Dream. Traves knew that the older man was getting more handy with his quirk. Of course, he always was a prodigy. After all, he rose to #10 in just a year, but something… changed. Traves noticed how he was able to defeat high-class villains in a snap now. He’s seen the man in action- Dream was like a wildcat, agile and ruthless in battle. From what Traves has seen, Dream’s brain could keep up with his body in battle. He knew what tactics to use and he knew how to use them well. He would never say this to his friend’s face, but it was only a matter of time before Dream passed Cscoop anyway.

One thing concerned Traves though. Dream has been awfully quiet about the situation. In the year that Dream has been actively doing hero work, he’s been actively doing social media as well. So far, there’s been no statement, no confirmation…

Traves understood how he felt. He knows how it’s like to have your life on the line. The first time he’s had a gun pulled on him, Traves panicked after the ordeal was over and had to be silenced with hot chocolate. He’s learned to handle things easier now and never really needed to be in life-threatening situations anyway because of his support role. 

Still, Traves can’t imagine having a blade to your throat, held by someone who you knew wouldn’t hesitate to slice your neck open. Sympathy welled up inside him- he really hoped that the older hero would feel better soon. 

**———**

_ anon ANTI-HERO  _ ** _(@anonheronews)_ **

_ oh you stan skeppy??? remember that vid of him shoving his fans out of the way just so he can get into his agency building??? _

**—**

_ jenn is missing mega  _ ** _(@MUTINGHER0) _ **

** _@anonheronews_ ** _ FJKSDJFSDLKFSDF SIIISSSS he’s apologized for that like ten times, stfuuuuuuuuuu _

**—**

_ kenny  _ ** _(@KEN5TER) _ **

** _@MUTINGHER0_ ** _ his apology aint sincere at all u seen that shit????? stop embarrassing urself stupid stannie  _

**———**

Mega sat at the overly fancy dining table, eerily still. Skeppy sat in front of him, browsing through the menu of the Italian restaurant with a tropical mocktail sitting in front of him next to his plate. For such a fancy restaurant, they were both dressed casually: Skeppy wore an aqua hoodie (his own merch, in fact) and Mega had on an oversized black sweater and ripped jeans. His eyes were concentrated on Skeppy, anxiety racking in his body and his heart pounding in his chest. 

Twilight cast a warm glow over the outdoor seating of the restaurant. The low-hanging sun was half-covered by woolly clouds and the skies were painted blue and orange. A chilly November breeze breathed and Mega pulled his sweater closer, shivering. 

“What do you want for dinner?” Skeppy questioned him, tearing his eyes away from the menu to meet Mega’s gaze. Despite his friend having good intentions, Mega felt cold. 

“I-I’m fine with anything,” he stammered, looking down and fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

With a warm chuckle, Skeppy nodded and glanced back down to the menu. Mega didn’t pay attention to what he ordered, but he didn’t complain when a plate of steaming pasta was set in front of him. Skeppy had ordered a platter of Margherita pizza and was already beginning to eat, though Mega, despite not having eaten lunch, had no appetite at all. Reluctantly, he picked up his fork and stabbed a stray piece of pasta but never brought the fork to his lips.

Skeppy looked like he wanted Mega to say something. Mega’s lips were glued shut. His chest tightened when he felt Skeppy’s expectant stare on him. 

With a long sigh, his friend put down his pizza. “Look, if you’re mad at me for taking the program you were working on, I’ve made a lot more progress than it than you have. I’m sorry for it though, that’s why I’m treating you to dinner,” he drawled. Mega felt his grip tighten around the fork. When he told Skeppy about the program he was developing that would track Technoblade’s origins and try to uncover his real name and identity, he can’t say he hadn’t expected this situation.

“I’m not mad,” Mega mumbled, picking at his pasta. “I just don’t really have an appetite right now.” Skeppy shrugged at this and took another bite of his pizza. Mega stared down at his lap, ignoring the rumbling from his stomach. He was starving, but his mouth was too dry to eat and staring at the pasta made him nauseous. Skeppy was finishing his first slice of pizza when Mega finally tasted the food. It made him feel sick and he pushed it away half-heartedly. 

“By the way, a little birdie told me that you’re rising in the ranks,” Skeppy piped up casually. “If you keep going at the rate you’re going, you’ll take Zelk’s spot,” 

_ But I don’t want to take Zelk’s spot,  _ Mega thought to himself. He kept it bottled up though and nodded, bringing a cup to his lips and swallowing a big gulp of water. He knew he could be higher if he tried. He and TedNivison had practically the same quirk but his quirk was better with no doubt. If he just had a chance that wasn’t ripped away from him immediately, would he be able to be number one?   
**———**

_ “The trials of NOLIFE will start in late December to early January, authorities confirm.” _

**———**

Tommy stopped the stream early today despite the thousands of complaints his fans made and leaned back in his chair, breathing heavily. He’d ended the stream as soon as he heard the news, he didn’t think he’d be able to keep a good face on stream. Tommy sat there for a few seconds, enveloped in guilt and bitten with grief. He remembered all the good memories with Deo, he wasn’t even sure if they  _ had  _ bad ones before the days leading up to his departure from America. He remembered a boy with jet black hair and icy blue eyes and a girl with blonde curls whispering lies into his ears. Young and impressionable, he believed them and became engulfed in betrayal and anger that he didn’t dare to seek logic. 

If he had kept in contact with Deo, would Deo have turned out this way? Locked away for the rest of his life with a sentence that likely bore death? Would he have met NOLIFE and be poisoned by the members’ sickening antics? After all, the Deo he knew would never do anything like this. His lip curled into a snarl and he slammed his hand against the desk, making his Jschlatt Herotooz topple over and fall onto its side. He slumped down in his chair like a puppet whose strings have been cut and tried to push down the rage he felt despite seeing red.   
“I hate them,” he told himself persistently. It’s NOLIFE’s fault, wasn’t it? Their fault that Deo was in such a hopeless position right now? Tommy hadn’t seen Deo in so long, how could he have influenced the actions of the former?   
Deo recognized him that day in the alleyway. He remembers the shock running through him, drawing the connection between TimeDeo of NOLIFE and his childhood friend that he was certain was dead after Technoblade destroyed the orphanage he lived his life in. He remembers denial, thinking  _ no, this can’t be Deo.  _

But it was, wasn’t it? Tommy recognized the disbelief he felt back then again. The same disbelief he felt when he was younger hearing about all the things Deo said about him behind his back.

He pressed his hands to his eyes, rubbing away the tears that started to form in the corners of his eyes. Maybe if they had just ended on a better note. Maybe if things had just been a little bit different. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sry for the short filler today, guys! hopefully next chap will be longer


	27. Arc Four: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, the prisoners here don’t really like child killers,” the guard said casually with a warning edge to it. “One day, we just might crack the cell door open. But that’s just hypothetical,” with a withering glance, the man turned around and headed off.

[fanart, by moth in the discord](https://imgur.com/OpK9RBG)

[more fanart, by jordan in the discord](https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/680477386411737199/687441932900630608/Untitled286-2.png?width=401&height=401)

“Hurry up,” the jail guard snarled at him, shoving him forward roughly. Eighty kept quiet, staring forward blankly. Getting arrested was shameful, but being in jail didn’t feel too bad. He noticed televisions up in a few corners of the facility broadcasting the latest news about heroes and villains and weather conditions and wondered if the prisoners kept up with the latest hero drama.

The guard nudged him forward into his cell, a room locked away from the others with heavy iron bars that felt cold as he brushed his fingers across them. The gate was slammed behind him and the sound ran a shock through him and he turned around to see the devious glint in the guard’s eyes.

“You know, the prisoners here don’t really like child killers,” the guard said casually with a warning edge to it. “One day, we just _might _crack the cell door open. But that’s just hypothetical,” with a withering glance, the man turned around and headed off.

A jolt ran through Eighty’s body again and he reached up to touch his cheek, eyes staring at the retreating figure of the man who locked him up. “Fuck,” he breathed and reached up to touch his hair, split down the middle and very, very recognizable.   
His mind flickered to the image of his corpse laying on the bed of his jail cell, mutilated and smothered by a pillow in his sleep in a damp, cold chamber and no one around. He’d be found in the morning and disposed of by the guards, who wouldn’t bat an eye. They’d pass it off as a mere accident or a suicide to the public.

His heart quickened, pounding in his chest. He couldn’t die yet… right? He still has to take care of Sammy and Purpled… and Deo. Deo’s fucking stupid, but Eighty still cared for him. What would they do without him? They couldn’t handle another loss. His eyes drifted down to his forearm. A systematic beep sounded from the bracelet fastened around his right wrist, the pale blue light emitting from a rectangular screen indicating that his quirk was in fact disabled.

Eighty lowered his hand to his left eye, bright scarlet and unnatural. Many people had quirks that affected their eye colour… right? He could cut a patch out of some clothes and wrap it around his other eye. But his hair, his iconic hair that was divided in half in black and white. He needed a way to make it a flat colour.

His fist found himself in his black locks. Eighty gave a little tug on it. Maybe he should just rip out one side of his hair. He’ll look like a hippy, but it could work…

The dual hair coloured man runs through the list of thoughts running in his head like gears, deep in thought as the minutes passed by. To no avail, he had reached a dead-end, causing him to curl his hands into fists and turn to a wall, throwing a swift punch at it only to stop himself, inches away from gaining a bloodied knuckle. His breathing quickens, his gaze darkening as tears well up in his eyes. Eighty stares down at his palms- was this the man he had turned to?

No… he was no more man, but a beast. A monster fueled by his hatred and rage, now unable to control his impulses and acts solely on his emotions, along with anger. He feels his legs collapse. They shake, go numb, and his body slides to the floor.

Hours later, he wakes with a cold sweat. His pupils thin and filled with fear as he frantically looks at his surroundings, unfamiliar as he starts to back away, his back against the cold brick wall. He opens his mouth to scream for Purpled, Sammy,- anyone. But he couldn’t. It was like his voice box was ripped out, his pleads going unignored as he settles into the abyss that was his mind.

The rational part of him snapped right open, flooding his head with the context of what had happened. He had been thrown back into reality, ignoring what the man had wanted and just dealt him the bad end of the stick. _“... I guess this is punishment. _He had thought, his gaze now down at the ground. One part of him was thankful; he couldn’t imagine any other member of NOLIFE facing the same fate as him right now.

Before all of this… years ago, he made a promise to everyone he cared about in his head.

_“Maybe we can look out for each other. I’ll look out for you. You’ll be safe with me.”_

That promise put him at ease, a newfound smile on his face as he closed his eyes, resting his head on the wall. It doesn’t matter now, the remaining members _will _be safe. No matter the cost.

He just has to focus on himself, as he’s faced with a problem. His appearance was a stark contrast against the other prisoners and would be picked out of a crowd and headhunted. Eighty paces around his cell, going through a cycle of an idea popping in his head, he follows through with it, it fails, and… he screams into a pillow.

The usually laidback villain was stuck. All his ideas had been a bust. He doesn’t understand- him putting black paint on his hair should’ve worked! Along with the glass shard idea!

In a moment of defeat, Eighty collapses onto his bed, a sigh coming out of his lips as he closes his tired eyes once again.

Maybe tonight, if he sleeps a little longer… he’ll wake up in a world where it’s better. A world where he never steered his friends down this treacherous path, where Astelic… where he hadn’t hurt her. Tears slightly damp his eyelashes, going down his face as he felt his heart crack once more at the memories. But what was he supposed to do if this fear, and not his heart, is beating in his body?

Another lover hits the universe. The circle is broken, but with death comes rebirth. The man had always believed that reincarnation had existed- he took comfort in the thought that he would find Astelic once again in the world.

He was never the fan of believing in the afterlife, that if ghosts exist, he just wanted to find the girl again. Make her smile and laugh to make up for all the crimes he had done, for hurting her; he just wanted to see Astelic.

The man sat up on his bed, cycling through the days they’ve spent with the others. Purpled, Sammy, and Astelic were always their own little group. He was just… what, the big brother watching over them? Yeah… Yeah, he liked that idea. They were their own little family. They were just on the borderline, caught between the tides of pain and rupture. Hell, he felt like a lost kid right now. It was Deo’s fault- he let both of them go and fight the most dangerous villain without a second thought. They were actual children, and he let them out of his vision. Did he even care? Did he know that they were going and didn’t bother to bat an eye?

The smell of rain and the sound of water dripping through the pipes and down on the ground were the only things that kept him at bay at this moment, the only things that kept him calm. He couldn’t lash out again, he knows how his temper is. The moment he gives in to his emotions he won’t be able to turn back.

Eighty’s hands felt cold. The warmth he used to feel when they spent their days in that warehouse were long gone, it abandoned him and never looked back. He turns his gaze over at the small puddle of water being made from the small drops leaking through the pipes, being reminded of the water dragon he had always made.

_The dragon of fire he formed._

He blinks his eyes, shoving his face into his hands as he sighs. He was tired, mentally and physically… He had eye bags, dark, sagging eye bags that Sammy always scolded him for.

Was it the unhealthily small amount of sleep he got or the stress that gave him these?

The man rests his head against the wall- he’s gone through a lot of mood jumps tonight. I mean, it was expected, he was in jail for god’s sake. He might even get beat up soon. The people probably wouldn’t even care if he got beaten into the cement, blood going everywhere… he was just like another mess in a cafeteria.

That was when the lightbulb flickered on.

He can bleach his hair! Then no one will recognize him! Eighty grins as he puts his hands on his head, letting out a relieved sigh. That definitely sounded better than painting his hair or trying to cut it with a dull glass shard. Of course, he has never even dared to bleach hair and heard of all the terrible things it can do to it, but it was the only option he had now, right? He just needed to get the bleach, and that should be easy… right?

**———**

Hero meetings suck.

Spifey had to stifle a yawn as the hero executive droned on and on about the average villain ranking and how crime rates were rising in the States. There wasn’t a single hero that seemed particularly interested except for Phil and Traves, who were attentively watching the executive and nodding along with the words. The brunette simply stares at his nails, uninterested and bored as his gaze held nothing but the tempting urge to get up and leave, then and there.

Why would any hero be interested nowadays? It’s always villains and crime, that was the daily schedule. Not like they needed an announcement- as long as heroes were here, new villains along with crime waves would come crawling out of the shadows like bugs and critters. The beaver man continued to pay no attention, seeming clueless to what was going on around him.

Skeppy snaps his fingers near Spifey’s left ear, causing the brunette to jolt up in surprise as he snaps his gaze over to the ravenette, giving him a pout. “You really need to start paying attention,” Skeppy says scornfully, stifling his laughter.

“Oh-kay, whatever you wish for, Mister #2,” Spifey says in a tired tone, pretending to pay attention now as he rests his cheek on his hand, sighing. Skeppy lets out a small ‘tsk’, facing the executive once again, listening intently.

Skeppy was never the type of person to actually listen, but whenever a new villain or a wave of crime was brought up as the next topic, he would always lend an ear in hopes of stopping it to move up further in the ranks and take his spot as number one. He was so close already, just one more rank up and he would’ve achieved his goal.

Philza starts to speak, asking questions about how they could deal with the new rise in felonies and the lack of peace. “We could go patrolling again!” Traves pipes up, raising his index finger as a smile formed on his face.

“I don’t think that’d work effectively if we were all doing patrol. Maybe some of us can do that while the others…” The blonde man comes to a stop, shaking his head as he shrugs.

Many heroes reminisced on the days how their job was easy, how they spent their patrols catching crooks and defeating weak villains. All went to hell when the devil incarnate that was Technoblade showed up from the shadows.

“Then what do we do?” Spifey asks, raising an eyebrow as he got his feet off the table and actually sat up properly.

“Any ideas, Skeppy?” Philza asks, now turning his gaze to everyone in the room. “Any ideas, anyone…?” A stone-cold silence ensued, the heroes exchanging eye contact and waiting for someone else to answer. Philza looked a little annoyed and began drumming his fingers on the table restlessly.

Traves was about to respond, only to be interrupted with the lights flickering for a brief moment. Eyes were drawn to the ceiling. The room grew darker, yet darker.

The power went out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you might have noticed a shift in writing styles, and that is because we have a new co-author- say hello to vinny! they did most of the writing in this chapter and i cannot thank them enough. they will be helping with later chapters too :) they will be added as a co author as soon as they get an ao3 account (they are a wattpad main ew gross)  
vinny's note: "why do i keep getting 40+ ms on fucking pvplounge i used to get 28 consistently this shit keep crashing i fucking hate it here"


	28. Arc Four: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh! A power outage!” Traves says with a grin, gaining nothing but a facepalm from the ravenette across the room. 

[fanart by jordan in the disc](https://imgur.com/HZI6WEF)

[fanart by arctic in the disc](https://imgur.com/JSbV7lm)

The heroes stumble around in the room, trying to find a lightswitch as Jschlatt lets out an audible sigh. “Cool, we’re fucked.” The man concluded.

“Nah, we got this. Don’t we, Slime?” Cscoop cut him off with a smirk lacing his lips, starting to use his quirk as Slimecicle does as well, a small green glow emitting in the middle of the room. Skeppy lets out a sigh of relief, the other heroes doing the same thing before they all look at each other.

“Oh! A power outage!” Traves says with a grin, gaining nothing but a facepalm from the ravenette across the room. 

“Right, okay, so are we just gonna stand here or investigate what caused this outage?” Wilbur spoke, venom lacing his words as he started carefully making his way to the door. Opening it, they were all met with the same sight. Pitch black darkness, scary to some but not to the British man. In fact, he seemed annoyed, as he turned his head back to the others. 

“Hey, Cooper, Slime, can you make more of that green thing so we can actually see more?” The duo looks at each other confusedly, only to abide as they nod their head and work their magic. The radiance from the substance would allow them to see a bit more, a few more meters or so. This made Wilbur let out a small chuckle of amusement, his gaze now at the two. “Alright, both of you are coming with me. I’ll go investigate this, anyone else wanna come?”

All of them stay silent before starting to make their way out of the doorway, Wilbur leading them as they follow. Skeppy however, wasn’t much of a fan, he was the number two hero for fuck’s sake. He might just dethrone Carson soon, so he was supposed to be taking the role of leader. He picks up his pace and shoves past the brit, trying to find the electrical room.

“Was it on the bottom floor or…” Philza asks, scanning their surroundings. It probably was- it made the most sense, so Skeppy started walking down the stairs.

**———**

The door creaks wide open, the entire room barely lit up by the green glow. Even though they could see through the darkness, it was like an entire shock going up against their body. It’s like the rational part of them was switched off, disabled.

“Oh, yikes,” Dream mutters, his eyes on the smashed fuse box. It seemed like someone let out their anger on it, smashed to nothing but a thousand pieces, which laid on the floor. Wilbur inches towards it, inspecting the pieces along with the fusebox. He squints, picking up a very small detail.

“A feather,” the brunette breathes out, picking it up as he observes it. “It seemed some electrical sparks from the fusebox set half of this feather on fire, causing the sabotager to drop it in a panic and try to put it out…” Wilbur concludes, standing up as he fixes his posture before turning to the others. “This feather might just be a clue.” He says proudly, grinning. Skeppy takes out his phone, dialling a number to get some electricians to fix the broken fusebox. 

“You think we should get everyone else out of the building or…?” Phil pipes up, chuckling nervously. 

“No, the electricians are on their way to fix this. It’ll be done in no time, no problemo,” Skeppy said in an uninterested tone, only to let out a sigh afterward as he puts a hand on his forehead, letting out a small groan. 

**\----- **

With the light turning on, everyone sitting across each other at the very same table they sat at before the power went out, they decided to turn this meeting into an investigation.

Wilbur held up the feather, closely inspecting it. “Huh…” he hums, examining the few burnt wires sticking out of the once pure-coloured feather, now nothing but an ashy excuse of one. 

“This is not a real bird feather,” The brunette concluded. “It has wires sticking out of it.” He runs his fingers across it, the tip scratching against his fingertips. 

“It’s  _ peculiar, _ really…” Slimecicle says with an eager tone, his gaze on it as he ponders on who it belonged to. Really, the thought was on everyone’s minds. The brown-haired man leaned forward, craning his neck to see the feather better.

“We should run through checks on who was last in the electricity room, maybe check the cameras…?” Wilbur suggests, putting a finger on his chin. It would be a good plan, but what if the sabotager wasn’t stupid? What if they took out the cameras first and then the power?

Dream lets out a sigh, shrugging as he looks at the others. “We could give it a try.” He says quite simply, leaving with a few several heroes as they make their way to the security room.

“You know, Wilbur,” Schlatt speaks up. “What if… what if it was like, just a kid pulling a prank or something?” The brunette proposes, about to add something else before the man in front of him cut him off. 

“No, no, I don’t think so. If it _ was _ a kid, how’d they get past security? One of my guesses used to be some smart teen at best, but…” He shakes his head, disapproving of his own interpretation. “Very unlikely. It’s something else, that’s for sure.” Wilbur puts the feather down on the table for a moment, picking up the papers laid carelessly on the floor. Someone’s gotta clean up in here.

Collecting them, he puts them in a drawer, picking up the feather as he opens the door and heads out, leaving Schlatt alone to think.

**\-----**

“Ah, Wilbur! Bad news...” Traves says, nervousness lacing his tone as the brunette behind them raises an eyebrow. “What is it?” He gives everyone a small glance, walking over to the screens, only to find out the news for himself.

“At the time of the outage, the cameras were down. We have no way of identifying the sabotager,” Phil points at the recordings, leaving all the heroes at a dead end. 

“My suspicions  _ were  _ correct. The sabotager did take down the cameras to avoid getting caught. It’s not a prank or a kid that somehow got past security. They were on the inside,” Wilbur spoke, seeming to take this way more seriously now. There was no easy answer; this sabotager was smart. It’d take some time to identify who or what this was. Traves had a nervous, fearful expression on his face, one that caught the attention of Cscoop.

“What’s up, Traves?” the blond asked, putting a hand over Traves’ shoulder. His curly-haired friend shrugged it off, chewing on his lip and eyes wide.    
“What if it was… Technoblade?” he suggests quietly, catching the attention of Skeppy. Skeppy slams down his coffee mug onto the glass table, face contorted in annoyance. “You think a harmless little power outage is the act of a goddamn merciless terrorist!? He wouldn’t even  _ bother  _ to take down the cameras or break the fusebox- he’d kill every single person in this building!” He snapped at the man, jabbing a finger on Traves’ chest, causing Cscoop to step in between the both of them. 

“Calm the fuck down. It was just a suggestion, be more civil.” He says as he glares at the ravenette, gritting his teeth. “I didn’t mean to start an argument you know, I was just…” Traves trails off, the other heroes feeling the thick tension in the air as Phil tries to change the subject.

“Well… it could be some other villain,” Phil murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck. The other heroes were staring at Cscoop and Skeppy and no one missed the fire in both of their eyes. 

“Yeah! Come on guys, we should work together and make sure that something like this doesn’t happen ever again!” Traves spoke cheerfully, causing his blonde friend’s gaze to turn away from the man in front of him, nodding. “Although, the question is… Is it a new villain on the rise?” 

“It’s a possibility, but I’m not very sure. I mean- it could be! NOLIFE is gone, Technoblade’s…Yeah, yeah it could be a new villain.” Wilbur’s sentence consisted of uneasy stutters, seeming like he was in deep thought. “Whatever happens- don’t get the goddamn media on this. So many fuckin’ headlines and crowds…” 

Schlatt reenters the room after taking a patrol around the building, shaking his head. “Along with panic.” He adds. The eyes shift over to the man, who was busy fixing his tie. 

“He’s right. We can’t let the media know.” Dream nods, his hands in his pockets as he looks over at the screens, some cameras getting fixed and back in order by the electricians. 

“If we can’t identify the sabotager by cameras…” Wilbur continues to take the lead, staring at the feather. “What about this?” He turns around, showing the others as a new glint of determination appeared in his eyes.

“What can we even do with that? It’s burnt, you know.” Schlatt raises a brow, only to murmur a small ‘oh no.’ He knew that look- and he also knew that Wilbur was very stubborn. He’s not giving up this case anytime soon.

“We could give it to a few labs or somethin’, find their DNA and put a stop to it before it even starts,” Phil suggests, putting a finger on his chin as he thinks. 

“What other way do we have right now? It’s the best call to make, yeah. Wonderful idea, Phil,” Wilbur nods, smiling at the blonde before gingerly tucking the feather into his front pocket. “Then that settles it. We’ll hand it off to some experts, if we get a lead I’ll host another meeting,” The brunette spoke with confidence, adjusting his sleeves and beanie as he gained nothing but nods of approval from the other heroes. 

“Hypothetically- what if we don’t get a lead?” Skeppy spoke up, unsure as he glared at Wilbur. The man in question turned around, looming over the shorter man with a dangerously neutral expression, face dark with shadows. Skeppy bit his lip, kicking back in his chair a little and drumming his fingers on the table. All eyes were on the two of them again with varying levels of concern.

“We will get a lead, Skeppy,” said Wilbur, the faintest fake smile spreading on his face. “Didn’t you perform a two-year-long investigation once? If you could pull it off, then we can too,” he said sweetly. Skeppy opened his mouth to retort but turned around to meet several passive-aggressive stares given by the other heroes in the room and closed his lips, leaning back with a defiant look on his face. 

“Perfect,” Wilbur grinned toothily, his gaze drifting to stare out the window, where the sun was starting the set, casting a warm glow over the busy city. The luminosity sparked a new drive to crack open this case in Wilbur’s heart.

“Just perfect,” He repeats much more quietly, smiling to himself as he stared down at the feather. The lights continue to flicker once more, however, they all paid no mind to it as it stays on. 

**\-----**

Wilbur enters an elevator, pressing a button so that it takes him to the first floor. It’d be a few minutes until he gets down there, he’ll just scroll through his phone to pass time.

The elevator light continues to flicker several times, leaving the man to be confused as he shifts his gaze upon the ceiling, squinting. He slowly lowers his eyes back to his phone only for the peace to be interrupted by harsh shaking, the elevator seeming to come to a random stop as the light goes out.

Wilbur was dead in the water, clinging onto the walls for dear life as he quickly dials someone for help.

“ _ Wilbur? Didn’t we just see each other a minute ago…? What do you need now? _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apricot: once again, tysm for reading and ty very much for both arctic and Jordan for drawing the fanart  
vinny: Crewmate: there is one impostor among us


	29. Arc Four: Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Phil, I need your help. I’m… I’m stuck in the elevator… I think it broke down. The lights went out and…” His words trailed to a dead end, a shaky breath leaving his mouth as he continued. With his fingertips cold, fear setting into his brain and locking his rationality. “Please help me,” he pleads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are so so so so SO sorry for the wait!!! there is no excuse other than laziness ajfkdafdf  
nevertheless hope u enjoy!!!

[fanart for this chapter, creds in captions](https://imgur.com/a/IUP1BPa)

Wilbur panics, dropping his phone to the floor as the lights continue to flicker. The man whimpers as he scrambles to find his phone, picking it up as he puts it to his ear.

“Phil, I need your help. I’m… I’m stuck in the elevator… I think it broke down. The lights went out and…” His words trailed to a dead end, a shaky breath leaving his mouth as he continued. With his fingertips cold, fear setting into his brain and locking his rationality. “Please help me,” he pleads.

He hears a hitch in the other man’s breathing. There’s a shuffle on the line and Wilbur’s grip on the handrails tightens when the elevator trembles again. Is there even a chance at survival if the chamber decides to fall?! His heart drops at the thought as a ring starts to echo in his ears, his mind going fuzzy. Wilbur won’t die like this, right? Another shake rocks through the elevator and he digs his teeth into his lower lip. 

“...bur? Wilbur? Are you there?” Phil’s voice cuts through the ringing in his ears in an instant. “I’ve notified Skeppy, who’s notified his mechanics. Try to stay calm for me, okay? You’re not going to get hurt,” The blonde spoke softly, trying to soothe him. Wilbur nods his head as if the older man could see, taking deep breaths as he felt the rapid sound of his heartbeat start to fade, him starting to become aware of his surroundings.

He tries to get a grip on his emotions, his legs no longer shaking as he positions his phone to his ear once again. “How long is it gonna be until… They come and help me?” Wilbur spoke anxiously, hoping it wouldn’t be long.

The elevator lights dimmed and shut down with a click. His heart seized again and his eyes darted around the small confinement. Phil’s voice sounded right next to his ears but they sounded so far away. “...soon,” Wilbur managed to pick up through the thick buzzing in his ears. 

Twenty-seven minutes later, Wilbur was sitting on the floor of the elevator. His breathing had steadied and he was listening to the music playing softly through the speakers of his phone. At the last syllable of the last line, as his voice was trailing off, the lights flickered on, the fluorescent glare forcing his eyes to blink and try to adjust. A couple of seconds passed with Wilbur’s heart racing in anticipation until the elevator let out a low buzz and began moving up.

**———**

The sound of footsteps and multiple phones ringing filled the building, Schlatt in his office as he gazed at the city through the many windows. The beams of sunshine leaked through and laid themselves on the piles of papers and unfinished documents on the man’s desk as he spoke through the phone he held.

“Yeah, yeah. Apparently, there’s a random fuckin’ teenager or whatever messing around with the InvadedLands’ electricity.” He spoke carelessly, his voice booming as he spins around in his chair, his other hand messing with the tip of his horns. “Wilbur and the rest want a full-on investigation on this shit.” Schlatt fixes his posture, sitting upright as a series of modest knocks rang through the door. The door creaked open and a timid albino boy walked in carrying a shaky stack of files and papers in his arms.

“Hold on, I’ll call ya’ back.” The man mutters into the phone as he hangs up, staring at his assistant, uninterested. “Whaddya need?”

“About that investigation,” the albino says uneasily, papers spilling out of his arms as he yelps. “The others haven’t gotten a lead yet, but apparently another… er… sabotage has already happened.

With that, Schlatt’s face had dropped. “What?” He stands up from his desk, concern written all over him. “It’s been what- an hour or two? No fuckin’ way. Do the security not notice any random kids walking around the building or something?! I need to talk to Skeppy ‘bout that…”

Ty nods nervously, bent over the pile of papers on the ground and hurrying to collect them back into his arms. “You wanna go over to InvadedLands or-”

“I gotta, or else the other heroes will get on my ass about this.” Schlatt cuts him off, scowling as he walks past Ty and stops at the door, whipping around. “Are those the stuff that Wil dropped off for me? Leave those on my desk.”

With those words, he walked out and slammed the door behind him, leaving the boy with a messy office and a bundle of papers scattered around him. Ty let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, collecting the documents and trying to fit them back into the folders they were originally in. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a trail of bright red ink and traced it back to the corner of a sheet that was peeking out from under three others.

“Don’t look at it, Ty,” Ty told himself anxiously, darting his gaze away and gathering the files into his arms. He  _ knew  _ he wasn’t allowed to look at the files unless Schlatt told him to. He was just wondering what would be under it- maybe it was just a small doodle, or a little note about finances, or a secret message from Wilbur Soot to Jschlatt about their villainous tendencies?! 

Ty stopped his train of thought. Curiosity got the best of him. “It wouldn’t hurt…” he trailed off and pulled the paper out from under the stack of files. 

Wilbur’s quick scrawl was scrunched up in the corner next to the block of text:  _ ‘3:42 pm**’ _ , it read next to the time of the first power outage. Ty laughed to himself, mentally beating himself for overthinking it. His gaze strayed from the correction to the numerous other notes on the page. 

‘ _ Who could get through the security system?’  _ One messy scribble on a corner. The page was full of thoughts similar to this; it seemed Wilbur had thought a lot about the incidents. Ty was mentally relieved in the fact that he didn’t choose to be a hero and tidied up the papers, placing them in an open space on Schlatt’s desk.

**———**

Zelk finds himself on the cameras, looking through the footage to find some sort of lead on this investigation. With his eyes squinted, observing the tapes, he skips a few seconds ahead before his eyes trailed off to another screen. 

“Wait a minute…” The man spoke before pausing the recording, his full attention on what was happening on the other camera, which was now pitch black. “Someone took out the camera in the break room!” He alerts the other heroes in the room, darting outside as he starts making his way through the hall to the break room, a confident grin on his face, knowing he had cornered the villain that had caused so much trouble for them in just a couple of hours. 

Zelk twisted the doorknob to find it holding still with nothing but a quiet click.  _ Locked, huh?  _ he thought to himself, gnawing on his lower lip and twisting a little metal key into the keyhole. The door snapped open on the second try.

“Stop in the name of Zelkam!” He yells out, drawing out his claws as his eyes traced the shadow inside the room. The figure moved away from the cracked camera glinting in the corner as for a split-second stumbled into the streak of sunlight shining through the drawn curtains; Zelk could make out a man in baggy clothes before the body moved back into the shadows.

Zelk took two tentative steps forward, flexing his talons. “Yield now and you may receive a softer punishment,” he drawls, eyes narrowed on the faint figure. There’s a quiet cough that sounded like a stifled chuckle. A spark of hope rushes through his veins- the villain was letting his guard down. 

The hero lunged forward.

**———**

Two teenagers in prison.

Something you’d expect to be an out of the ordinary sight, but in here, it was completely normal. Every new prisoner would end up like the rest.

“Sammy, we’re gonna get killed. We can’t use our quirks-” Purpled whispered, panic in his eyes as the other could only look at him, feeling helpless as he saw his friend in such a state. Neither of the two had eaten a bite of their food- it was disgusting, of course.

Sammy cut him off with a nervous chuckle, earning a suspicious glance from the guard eavesdropping near their cafeteria. “Don’t worry, Lil Purp,” he reassured Purpled. The younger scrunched up his nose at the nickname, frowning. “We’ll find a way out of this,” 

“No you won’t,” the guard at their side piped up.

“We didn’t ask, Brian,” Sammy snapped back before turning back to Purpled, who had a small smile at the exchange. “Look, we’re in protective custody right now,” he continued with his voice significantly lowered. “All we have to do is not fuck up anything so we don’t get put in gen pop, alright?” Purpled seems a little more reassured at that and for a second, Sammy thought he would calm down, but Purpled suddenly stilled and his skin became paler.

“What about Eighty and Deo?” he cries out panicked, earning a nasty glare from Brian the prison guard. “Are they in protective custody?!” he whispered. Sammy averted his gaze.

“Well… probably,” he reasoned. “Child murderers usually do, don’t they? Because of the nature of their crimes, even prisoners think they’re filth- oh my god we’re terrible people,” Sammy banged his head against the table, causing Purpled to yelp and help his friend up. 

“Dude, what have we done?” he groaned out, shoving his friend’s hand off his shoulder. “We could have survived, the four of us, why did we get so ambitious?” 

“Because you four are terrible people,” the guard inputs helpfully.

The two of them turn to glare at the guard, who shrugs before meeting the death stare from Sammy. If looks could kill, the guard would drop dead on the floor in an instant. A strangled laugh escapes him and the guard steps back cautiously.

“What a jerk,” Purpled muttered, hatred and murder in his eyes. As much as Sammy would want to leave it like that, he could see the uncertainty in his friend’s eyes. Not wanting to delve into a deeper conversation, he quickly switched the topic.

“So how’s your roommate? Can’t be worse than mine,” asked Sammy hastily. Purpled seemed relieved to be switching the topic as well and began onto a rant about how his roommate didn’t know basic hygiene. Sammy tuned him out, his thoughts going back to finding ways on how to get them both out of here. Slight trepidation inched towards him, making him panic once more. The likeliness of the possibility of them  _ really  _ being at a dead end and having to endure whatever time left they had here scared him half to death.

Sammy couldn’t figure this out on his own.

Then… voila. The Australian had his eureka moment, a small smirk forming on his lips as he proceeded to plan this entire approach in his head, drumming his fingers on the table while Purpled angrily rants. If they can pull this off, then they’ll be scot-free. NOLIFE would be back, and they’ll be together again.

They can’t just get up and leave, could they? With this plan, they’d have to bet on their luck. Sammy’s gaze briefly trails off to the other inmates in the cafeteria, remembering that he once heard the rumour of a gambling ring when he was first brought into his cell. They could try to gamble for a phone, but that would come later. They were  _ child murderers, _ and the guards made it painfully clear that people like them wouldn’t survive long here. That is if they didn’t have an excuse...

He was right, he alone couldn’t get them out of here.

But the four of them can. 


	30. Arc Four: Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eighty combs a hand through his newly bleached blond hair, making a face when several brittle strands fall through his fingers. “I definitely did not do this properly…” he mutters to himself before lifting his makeshift eyepatch off his amber right eye gingerly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happyyyy new years eve everyone!! or new years, depending on where ur from cc:  
enjoy the chapter :D

[ fanart 1 ](https://imgur.com/W3CBYEh)

[fanart 2](https://imgur.com/fTgqqrv)

Eighty combs a hand through his newly bleached blond hair, making a face when several brittle strands fall through his fingers. “I definitely did not do this properly…” he mutters to himself before lifting his makeshift eyepatch off his amber right eye gingerly. 

“Did what properly?” His new roommate pipes up from behind him. Eighty shoves the eyepatch back on and turns around, his mind scrambling to find an excuse. With the now fair-haired man staring at the other in the cell, a response leaves his mouth, uncertain undertones in his words. 

“I… I tried styling my hair a different way, but it didn't work. Now it looks way too spiky. Not a big deal, though.” What a  _ terrible  _ excuse… however, all his roommate did was give him a strange look and go on with his day, causing Eighty to let out a sigh of relief. The man ran his fingers through his hair once again, stopping briefly as his hands curled around the cold, iron bars that encased them inside the room. 

“Hey, honey,” his roommate said from behind him. Eighty choked and whipped around, eyes blown wide in confusion to see his roommate curled up in a ball pressing a  _ phone  _ to his ear. “How are you today?” the man continued with a gentle smile on his face. Eighty stared silently, jaw slightly agape. He couldn’t help but stare- was acquiring prohibited items common in prison? 

His roommate noticed him and visibly flinched away at the intense gaze. “What is with you?” he snapped at Eighty after his phone call. Eighty stuttered, turning away.

“Where’d you get that?” he blurted out.

“None of your business,” The man responds, tucking away the phone as he glares at Eighty. The other smaller male couldn’t help but come at a loss for words, scrambling to try and find a response.

“W-where did you get it? Tell me where!” Eighty begs, desperation in his tone as his roommate shows a clear uncomfortable look.

“I’m not telling you shit!” He pushes Eighty away from him, causing the white-haired male to hit his back against the cell bars. It felt as if the wind was knocked out of him, causing him to let out a gasp as he struggles to breathe. Eighty puts a hand over his chest, air reaching his lungs once again as his breathing slows.

“I’ll find out,” He spoke slowly, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead as he stared up at his roommate. The nervous look now displayed on the other male’s face was something Eighty mentally noted. With a guard now opening their jail cells, notifying them both that it was their yard time, he and his roommate exchanged a brief glare before stepping foot outside their cells, both of them disappearing into a crowd of inmates.

**———**

The scratch of the pen against the paper cut through the silent room. The top floor of the InvadedLands Agency building was usually quiet, so quiet that the distant chirping of birds and the roar of the cars on the streets could be heard. The box of filled-out papers and documents next to his desk only grew as the hero wrote, leaned over his desk and only paused for a few moments to think. 

The pile of unfinished papers only shrunk in size until there were none left. Skeppy kicked his feet up on his desk and let out an exasperated sigh, face twisted in annoyance. “Can’t believe he’d ditch like that,” the words spilled out of his mouth unconsciously, staring angrily at the door.

The room was immersed in the warm glow of sunset, each glass wall crystal clear with a rich mahogany lining. An over-the-top computer setup sat facing a wall of the room and a large map of the United States hanging from the ceiling behind the four monitors, decorated with blue dots scattered across the country. Two cedar cabinets on either side of the desk presented gleaming golden trophies and silver awards for all to see and lining the cabinets were white and pale blue feathers, ones that matched the long sky blue feather tucked behind Skeppy’s ear.

Skeppy yawned lazily, stretching his arms. He spent the entire day doing paperwork Mega left him with- just the thought made him grind his teeth. After all, he shouldn’t have to do another hero’s work. As soon as Mega returned from his “business trip”, Skeppy will- 

A series of loud, harsh bangs sounded on the door and Skeppy broke from his angry internal rant. More irritation filled him- what kind of barbarian would bang on the door like that? Skeppy rose from his seat, seizing a pouch of small stones on his desk. His rigid stance relaxed when he heard a voice sound from outside his door. 

“It’s me, Wilbur,” a familiar voice called out. 

Skeppy sucked in a breath before walking towards the door. He couldn’t help but notice that Wilbur’s voice was tense and devoid of the cheeriness Skeppy was used to hearing in the older man. His hand hovered over the door handle timidly before Wilbur rapped on the door again-  _ tap tap tap.  _   
“Skeppy,” said Wilbur. “Open up.” A chill ran down the number two hero’s spine. That wasn’t a question, but a command. _ Who’s Wilbur to boss me around in my own building?  _ a part of him thought. Despite the bitter uncertainty, Skeppy cracked the door open. He was expecting the brunette to start brandishing a paper in his face, spewing on about breakthroughs in the case.

He was  _ not  _ expecting two police officers standing behind Wilbur and both glaring at Skeppy intimidatingly. “We need to take you in for questioning .” He said. “We had an informant,” Wilbur confessed, “who gave us information that proved useful to the case.” 

“Who?” Skeppy snarls displeasingly as Wilbur pushes the door open, stepping inside his office, further ticking off the other hero as he glares at him. They sit in a brief moment of silence, the brit being the one to pipe back up.

“We cannot disclose that information.” He responds with a stern tone, going a step closer to the shorter male before looking at the two officers behind him, snapping his fingers afterwards. “Go on, take him in.” The brunette spoke intently, watching Skeppy get cuffed from the corner of his eye as he turned, leaving his office.

**———**

_ “I’ll find out.” _

Eighty finds those words echoing in his head, sitting alone as he stares at everyone else in the courtyard. He seemed to have a blank look on his face, deep in his thoughts as his gaze averts to the side, mind going a thousand miles per hour as he couldn’t help but let himself drift back on what happened before he was sent here. Would things have turned out differently if he was awake, standing next to his dragon guarding the entrance of the warehouse they called their home? Would they all still be in one piece, planning their next move on society?

Eighty shakes his head, attention now shifted towards the group of inmates who were starting to gather in a shifty corner, murmuring to themselves. He was about to turn away before he noticed one of the inmates holding a deck of cards in their hands. Hope sparked inside him, now observing them closely. With minutes passing by like seconds, every detail and action the group had done being noted by the white-haired male, he came to a conclusion that seemed way too possible.

With the beams of sunshine resting down on the courtyard, birds flying over them, he couldn’t help but tear his gaze away and look up at the sky for once. Something he rarely did. Why did it seem more peaceful than his life before this? At least he wasn’t sneaking around like a snake, avoiding capture.  _ That’s because he’s already been caught. _

He stares back down, looking at his orange tracksuit while fidgeting with his sleeves. He furrows his brows. “ _ I don’t wanna be here, _ ” The man mutters to himself, sighing before turning back to the group, his thoughts dampening the mood. However- he couldn’t get sidetracked, could he now?

Something caught his attention. Their mannerisms, the way they kept their voices low to the point where it seemed unintelligible if you weren’t right next to them… it was normal behaviour here, but Eighty had his suspicions, along with an idea.

_ Dominos _ had an idea.

**———**

_ “He mind-controlled us. We couldn’t do anything.” _

Sammy spoke timidly to the group that had approached them moments prior, the teen next to him panicking quietly. Sammy steps in front of Purpled, shielding him as he glares at the men, sweating out of slight pure fear trying to stand his ground.

“We were tricked into killing t-those orphans,” The blonde stutters, clearly noticing as he widens his eyes, unclear to the group due to his glasses. He could feel Purpled’s confused, judgemental stare burning through his skull, driving him more into discomfort as he straightened up his posture.

The men exchanged each other's looks, and to both the teenagers’ surprise, they all looked shocked. Sammy hoped to god they bought it.

“Now can you just leave us alone?” Purpled piped up, discomfort clearly in his tone as he squirms, feeling a little claustrophobic since their backs were up against the wall and such.

The group had backed up from the pair, causing them both to step to the side to get away. 

“Purpled,” Sammy whispers, now out of their earshot as the other blonde perks his head up with the mention of his name. “Listen. I’ve been thinking about a plan-”

“Stop. What the  _ hell _ was that about? Deo mind-controlling us?” Purpled snaps, crossing his arms harshly as he looks to the side angrily. “This doesn’t feel right. Putting all the blame on Deo- we were fully accountable, Sammy! This….”

The teen trails off, a solemn look on his face as Sammy’s brows take a slightly upturned position, melancholy and guilt dawning over him.

“We needed a scapegoat,  _ Purp.  _ It was the only way-” Sammy was interrupted by a slight shove, Purpled glaring at him.

“A scapegoat? Is that what Deo is to you? Fucking hell, Sammy. They… they were like our family. H-how could you…?” Purpled starts stuttering, bringing a hand up to his mouth as shock bubbled inside of him. He was overreacting- sure, but NOLIFE was a family to him. He felt complete with them, and it  _ hurt _ seeing Sammy doing something like this. Shifting the blame to someone he viewed as close as a brother.

“Purp, calm down. It’ll be fine, I promise. We just needed an excuse- what else was I supposed to do?” Sammy furrows his brows. “You heard the guards, they told us we wouldn’t last half an hour here! We needed to- we just couldn’t let them know we did all of that, alright?”

The Australian clearly showed that he was distressed through the tone of his voice, his gaze now at the floor as he covers his face with his hands. “ _ What else was I supposed to do? _ ”

Purpled sighs, shaking his head as he puts his hand on his shoulder in an attempt to reassure and comfort him, feeling guilty. He knew Sammy just wanted the best for both of them, but it felt… wrong, so terribly wrong. Sammy did what he needed to do, and the blonde knew he needed to change the subject before this escalated any further.

“... We’ll talk more about this later,” Purpled sighs. “What’s your plan?” He tilts his head, smiling as he wants to listen to what the Australian had in mind. He sees the male peek out from the cover of his hands, shrugging as he tries piecing together his words to explain.

“Listen… I may be wrong about this, but, when we first got sent here I’ve been hearing rumours about a gambling ring.” He starts making vague movements with his hands, shifting his feet around every once in a while. “We should get involved. We could earn something that could help us bust out.” As he was explaining, Purpled had an uncertain look on his face, taking a step back as he took it all in.

“Are you with me, or not?”


	31. Arc Four: Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skeppy’s wrists were rubbed raw by the metal of the quick-cancelling handcuffs digging into his skin. He keeps losing count of the number of bricks on the wall and the number of tiles on the floor and the fruit fly that he noticed flying around had since disappeared. He’s been in the interrogation room for hours, the anger and annoyance he harboured now watered down with fatigue. With every minute that passes, he had a spark of hope that someone would enter and provide him with answers but he was let down each time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOO update!! sorry for the wait we're lazy as FUCKK
> 
> jelly if u see this im gonan cry -vinny

[fanart](https://imgur.com/EnstnG8) [ 1](https://imgur.com/EnstnG8)

[fanart 2](https://imgur.com/JaCKVIw)

_ Technoblade had never seen LA in such a state. He walks down the streets of the deserted city, blended into the shadows with his hood over his head. There were few civilians in the once-bustling streets of Los Angeles. _

_ Techno spared a glance at a convenience store down the block. He wondered if he should risk stealing a couple of snacks; he hadn’t eaten in days. His stomach let out a low grumble and the temptation grew. There were cameras watching him, and yet he decided to take the risk. _

_ He pushed open the glass door to the convenience store tentatively, a feeble bell ringing at the movement. Techno flinched and he pulled his hood to cover the upper half of his face. The store was empty and the door to the break room was open. He knew he had to make this quick.  _

_ Techno picked out a bag of beef jerky, a packet of trail mix, and two bottles of water. He shiftily slid it into the inner pocket of his jacket and made for the exit. Just as he turned, a couple of people walked into the convenience store in extravagant uniforms and conversing loudly. Techno curses- heroes. He ducked his head and pretended to be browsing through a shelf of crackers. _

_ At the ringing of the bell, a stone-faced employee dragged herself out of the breakroom. Techno bit his lip, glancing towards the small trio of heroes. Three of them and he only recognized one diamond-rank. They won’t be too hard to slip around.  _

_ As the heroes walked down his aisle, he left through the other side, trying to hide his face under the fur of his coat. He made his way towards the door rather hastily and pulled it open. The alarm broke out, causing the heroes in the store to whip around just as Techno broke out in a run and disappeared from view.  _ _ He can’t believe he forgot about that- he didn’t pay, of course, there’s going to be alarms. Techno stopped down an alleyway where he noticed a chain fence separating the alleyway in two. He dreaded engaging in another fight. _

_ And so, he began to climb, silently praying to the heavens that the heroes didn’t see him go down the alley. Techno let a string of curses exit his mouth when he felt a stinging scratch down his ankle, but he made his way over the fence and landed on the pavement.  _

_ Karma must’ve found him today. The moment his feet touched the ground, the heroes turned down the corner. “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Techno called out. _

_ The heroes immediately prepared their quirks and rushed towards the fence. For one of the first times in his life, Techno saw no point in a fight. He backed away from the heroes and began to run.  _ _ If it were not for  _ quirks  _ and hero support items _ ,  _ he would’ve gotten away, but no, it’s 2068 and quirks were as real as he and Philza. He saw one of the heroes swinging over the fence with a grappling hook out of the corner of his eye and turned to see a fist in his face. _

**———**

Skeppy’s wrists were rubbed raw by the metal of the quick-cancelling handcuffs digging into his skin. He keeps losing count of the number of bricks on the wall and the number of tiles on the floor and the fruit fly that he noticed flying around had since disappeared. He’s been in the interrogation room for hours, the anger and annoyance he harboured now watered down with fatigue. With every minute that passes, he had a spark of hope that someone would enter and provide him with answers but he was let down each time. 

Words could not describe his relief when Wilbur finally opened the dull blue door, respiting Skeppy from his boredom. 

“Long wait,” Skeppy remarked, leaning back in his chair, trying to conceal how glad he was. Wilbur swallowed and sat down in the chair across from the number two hero. “I don’t see how I’m a suspect,” he continued, glowering. “I was with you when the sabotages happened,”

“It’s possible to have accomplices,” Wilbur retorted easily. Skeppy shut up.

A stark silence lingered between the two heroes, Skeppy burning holes into Wilbur with his eyes and the brunette seeming nonchalant about the death glare coming from Skeppy. 

“I don’t see how that warrants an arrest,” Skeppy continued, “According to the  _ law,  _ you are allowed to arrest if you have found sufficient evidence that the suspect committed the crime,”

Wilbur gave him a withering look and drew a burnt feather from his coat pocket. He held it in front of Skeppy, giving the former a short time to examine it. “Do you know what this is?” he asks. The ravenette leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, face contorted as if he had bit into a lemon.    
“No, this is my first time seeing it,” he says, voice dripping in sarcasm. “Yeah, of course.” 

A muscle in Wilbur’s jaw tenses. “It’s an InvadedLands feather. Wired. How many of your heroes have wired feathers?”

“What are you implying?” The ravenette snaps. Wilbur adjusts his hoodie, fixing his posture as he moves his chair closer to the table, his face inching closer to the shorter male.

“What I’m implying is who one of your many potential accomplices could be,” He pauses, sliding several photos of his staff team across the table. Skeppy leans over, lips moving as he reads the captions and the labels on the photos. They’re all recognizable names in the hero industry, with his own in the center. “Are you accusing my staff team- my most _trusted _members- of sabotaging my building!?” The male’s voice raised significantly, the tension in the room worsening as the both of them glared, gazes able to cut through the strongest of steel.

“No, I’m actually accusing them of stealing ice cream from a Walmart,” Wilbur spoke sarcastically before standing up from his seat, both of his hands on the table, his face leaning until it was inches away from the shorter male, his voice traced with venom-laced words. “ _ Of course I am. _ What did you think?”

Skeppy’s lips moved, but nothing came out. He was repeating the words to himself, silently processing the information. “That’s impossible,” he choked out at last, eyes widening. “No, no, all of my heroes are incredibly loyal. I know that for a fact. That’s impossible,” repeats Skeppy, staring at the photos with disbelief as if he couldn’t fathom why anyone on his staff team would want to sabotage his work.

Wilbur’s facade softened for a split second. “Is that so?” he says quietly. He fetched a notepad from his pocket and flipped through it. Keeping his eyes trained on Skeppy, he read aloud: “‘I wouldn’t be surprised if one of us did it, I mean,’” he flips to a different page. “‘I’m not even shocked. It was bound to happen.’ Do you know why they said those things?”

Skeppy’s expression had blank. Wilbur let him think, but the answer was clear to both of them. “Yeah,” he said in a small voice, face dropping as his head now hung low. Wilbur couldn’t help but let a small shock of surprise take over him, never seeing Skeppy in such a state.

“One of your staff was the one who pointed the feather out,” Wilbur remarks. “They called me telling me they had a lead.”   
“Who?”

Wilbur opened his mouth, then closed it again, shaking his head. 

Skeppy looks up to scan through the photos again briefly before hanging his heading again, tucking his hands into his hoodie anxiously. “Well, I don’t know what you want from me,” he bites. “You’re not getting a confession because I didn’t do anything.” He says, hair flopping over his eyes. “I don’t know why you’re so insistent that it’s me.”

Wilbur stares at him with an unexplainable look. He sucks in a breath and stands up from the table. The movement makes Skeppy raise his head and eye him suspiciously. “We’ll try again later,” he says simply before pulling open the door, striding through and shutting it behind him.

The younger hero lets out a held breath. His head goes into his arms, nothing but a deathly mixture of confusion, regret, guilt, and rage flooding into him. He can’t help but think to himself- why did no one tell him? 

He wondered how many of his colleagues and friends had the same feelings as his staff team. If only he knew. He should have been more aware.

**———**

_ He dodged the punch easily and jumped backwards. Techno couldn’t help but feel slightly overwhelmed from his stupidity moments prior- but, now, he couldn’t get distracted. The pinkette was able to land a kick on one of the heroes but was pressured by the others, causing him to back up. _

_ “Aggressive now, are we?” Techno taunted, a small nervous laugh escaping his lips as he runs his finger along his blade before swinging it at an approaching hero. The male would tighten his grip in slight frustration seeing them dodge, that small bit of rage immediately disappearing as he saw an opening. He lunges at them, targeting the one closer to him, immediately driving the blade into their chest. _

_ Screams erupted, nothing that he wasn’t familiar with. He couldn’t help but furrowed his brows, backing up as he pointed his sword at the group, a small threat to keep them in place, not daring them to take a step forward. Techno glares at the remaining pairs, a few seconds passing by when he realized he lost sight of one. _

_ “Got’cha,” Techno spoke as he whipped around, face to face with the diamond ranked hero as he blocked their attack with his sword, seeing their quirk in action. A taunting smirk rests on his face as he looks at the clear frustration on their face. The pinkette’s foot collided with the hero’s stomach, sending them flying and landing on the ground. “Is that all?” The villain backed away, turning around and staring at the rest, quirks up as an aura of rage seemed apparent around the group. This is gonna take a while. _

_ All at once, they lunged at him, beginning the final moments of the battle as the sound of clashing against blades and grunts. _

_ It all seemed to speed by so fast- so fast that the villain couldn’t keep up, resulting in a pathetic sight of him on the ground, sword knocked away as he looked up at the ranked heroes in frustration. _

_ “About time for your reign of terror to end,” One spoke with confidence, Techno loathing them even more. Running wasn’t an option- they all surrounded him, quirks prepared. If he even attempted to do so, they’d have his head on a platter. _

_ He was interrupted from his thoughts with the yelp of a hero, looking up and squinting his eyes as he saw a glimpse of what seemed to be a lock on their eyes, the power fading from them. _

_ It all seemed to speed by so fast. _

**———**

Of course, he’s still in the interrogation room. A couple of minutes have passed since Wilbur left the room yet it felt like hours. Skeppy doesn’t want to be in the room anymore. Just him and his thoughts.

He closes his eyes, his head still buried in his arms. There’s a lump in his throat that he swallows down and there’s a headache that he can’t get rid of. He wished he could go back two years to when he first became hero and tell his younger self to not be such a fucking dick. 

A few minutes pass and Skeppy can almost hear the clock tick with every passing second. He feels the lump in his throat grow- he feels like a  _ criminal  _ yet he hasn’t done anything unlawful. Still, he waits for Wilbur to return, longing for someone to talk to. Is this what solitary felt like?

There’s another tick. He wonders if he’s hallucinating. Skeppy raises his head and glances around and everything is pitch black with the only light being the blue LED light glowing on his quirk-cancelling handcuffs. Maybe he  _ was  _ hallucinating, but he can’t help but feel dread creeping upon him.

The creak of a door sounds. Skeppy’s throat tightens. There are quiet clicks of shoes against the floor and terror envelopes Skeppy when he realizes there was someone in the room with him. The dim blue light shifts into an alarming red and Skeppy backs up in his chair. The footsteps move closer with the person being careful to evade the light. There’s a familiar-sounding sigh yet Skeppy can’t quite put his finger on who it belongs to.

A cock of a gun is what sends Skeppy into hysterics.


	32. (TEMP CHAP) hiatus announcment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yea

hey everyone! its apricot and pluto

we're just going on hiatus for a bit because we have no inspo to write

this chap will be deleted when the next chap comes out 


	33. abandoning freakshow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> freakshow plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, yeah, we're abandoning freakshow. we're sorry to tell you this, but neither vinny or i have any motivation to keep writing.
> 
> plus, we don't like the ccs anymore
> 
> we're sorry for making you wait then announcing this, but i think it's better than to just leave you hanging. we don't have motivation, we don't like any mcyt ccs (in fact we hate a few of them)
> 
> we'll release the plans we had for freakshow, the backstory, etc. if you wish to let your imagination run free instead, then i suggest you not read on further.
> 
> thank you for reading freakshow and supporting this story!

**Timeline**

**———**

2063 - Eighty meets Purpled and Astelic

  * Eighty is 13

  * Purpled is 9

  * Astelic is 9

2063 - Skeppy meets Techno

  * Skeppy is 13

  * Techno is 13

2064 -

2065 - Techno loses his quirk

  * Techno, Skeppy, and Eighty are 15

  * Purpled and Astelic are 11

2066 - Sammy meets Purpled

  * Sammy, Purpled, and Astelic are 12

  * Techno, Skeppy, and Eighty are 16

2067 - Eighty meets Deo

  * Eighty, Deo, Skeppy and Techno are 17

  * Astelic, Sammy, and Purpled are 13

2067 - Astelic goes missing in the Ender Attack

2067 (late) - Techno runs away from home and starts to do petty crimes

2068 - NOLIFE is formed and do small crimes

  * Eighty, Deo, Skeppy and Techno are 18

  * Sammy and Purpled are 14

2068 - Techno changes his entire appearance after going mad and starts arson

2069 (June) - Techno starts destroying orphanages and killing orphans

  * Purpled is 15 and Sammy is 16

  * Eighty and Techno are 19

  * Skeppy and Deo are 19

2069 (Early August) - Arc one starts, Techno defeats Ted, arc one ends

2069 (Late August) - Arc two starts

2069 (Early September) - Techno defeats Zelkam and Mega, arc two ends

2069 (Mid September) - NOLIFE starts destroying orphanages and killing orphans, arc three begins

2069 (Late September) - Purpled and Sammy are arrested

2069 (week after last event) - Eighty is arrested

2069 (Early November) - Deo is arrested, NOLIFE crumbles, arc three ends

2069 (Mid November) - Mega starts to sabotage the heroes’ work

2069 (Mid November) - Mega cancels out heroes’ quirk from afar during a battle between Techno and a few Diamond heroes, making the heroes believe Techno’s quirk is quirk cancelling

2069 (Late November) - Mega organizes a breakout that allows NOLIFE to escape before being arrested himself

2069 (Mid December) - Arc five begins, Techno taunts Jschlatt and Wilbur

2069 (Late December) - Techno defeats most of top ten before falling to the hands of Skeppy

2071 (June) - Mass Tartarus breakout, Techno escapes

  * Eighty, Deo, Skeppy and Techno are 21

  * Sammy and Purpled are 17

End of book one :)

**Chapter Planning**

**—————————**

16 (A3): Chapter ends with the beginning of Purpled and Sammy’s fight against Techno

17: they fight, Purpled and Sammy arrested and Techno gets away in the end

18: aftermath of the fight, Deo and Eighty’s argument, Eighty and Techno’s encounter ends the chapter

19: they fight

20: Eighty’s backstory

21: Deo hunts down Techno, their encounter ends the chapter

// Tommy Interlude //

22: they fight, Deo’s backstory ends the chapter

23: aftermath of arc two

(A4) 24: filler

**25: eighty tries to dye his hair to avoid being beat up in prison, ends up bleaching it**

**26: heroes scramble to find out who did the sabotages**

**27: more investigation as Mega performs more sabotages, Zelk is close to finding out Mega is the sabotager but is narrowly avoided, more NOLIFE prison scenes**

**29: Diamond heroes vs Techno fight, Mega cancels heroes’ quirks**

**30: more investigation, Mega breakout ends chapter**

**31: rest of Mega breaking out NOLIFE, does not resist arrest***

32: aftermath

33 (A5): Techno taunting/fillers

34: fight, Wilbur interference ends the chapter and it dives into Techno’s backstory

35: Techno’s backstory + his POV of the story, the chapter ends with him being arrested

Aftermath (Techno put on death row)

**Ending lines (or at least the basic idea)**

Skeppy stares Mega in the eyes. Mega stares back, the shy kitten demeanour that he once bore now inflated to a hungry wildcat, eyes flickering down to the handcuffs around his wrist, tied to the interrogation table, then back up towards Skeppy with a sly smirk on his face.

Skeppy takes a seat across from the restrained villain. He can barely recognize the person he used to call a friend.   
But were they really friends anyway?

He finally gets the courage to speak up, his mouth dry and his throat hoarse. Mega quirks an eyebrow- he must've noticed Skeppy opening his mouth. The shorter brunette leans back in his chair, his shackles clinking against each other.

“We have a lot to catch up on.”

**\--**

*arc four will have a side story to fill in gaps where it’s NOLIFE joining a gambling ring in prison to trade ramen for a phone to contact each other. Purpled and Sammy lies and says that Deo had a mind-control quirk that tricked them into killing the orphans to avoid being killed in jail. In prison, Deo goes by Timothy and Eighty goes by Dominos.

**Techno's Backstory**

Techno once had an extremely powerful quirk, he could make slashing motions with his hands and whoever he directed it towards, they would get hit as if they were slashed (see Chara in Glitchtale because that's where I got the idea from HAHA). He was friends with Wilbur, best friends in fact. He once had brown hair, brown eyes, a childish face. He looks nothing like what he looks like right now. He was en route to becoming one of the greatest heroes of all time, with his skill and power.

One day, he and Wilbur saw a villain. Although they didn't have their licenses, they thought they could handle it. It went terribly wrong: they managed to capture the villain, but Techno was hit by the villain's quirk.

Over the course of months, he noticed his quirk powers diminishing. Every time he used it, he was in agony and the power had no strength to them. 

Techno blamed the world for his problems, and in his distress and desperation to use his quirk again, the power backfired and he cut crosses into the edge of his cheeks. Eventually, he lost the quirk, and when he did, he shut down. He was devastated- he didn't come out of his room for weeks. When Wilbur visited him and tried to comfort him, Techno lashed out. He yelled at Wilbur for not protecting him and called him a fake friend. Wilbur, understandably, didn't take that well. They cut contact after that.

**Notes:**

**———**

  * Eighty, Deo, and Techno are put on death row (NOLIFE escapes though)

  * Ted is dethroned by Skeppy after the whole story

  * Dream tries to hunt down Deo but finds them unconscious after Techno was done with them, then skyrockets to #3 because everyone thinks he was the one that defeated Deo

  * “If the terrorist was really trying, they could do their sabotage, then rig secondary explosive devices at that location, set to go off when repair crews showed up to try to fix the initial damage. That would further delay getting things running again, because utility repair crews are not equipped or prepared to work in a situation like that, and would have to wait for a police or military bomb squad to clear the area before starting repairs. He wouldn't actually need to rig those explosives in every location he sabotaged - just enough places that the danger became clear, and then the authorities would have to clear _every_ spot he'd hit, out of caution."

  * “Look for 'chokepoints' in infrastructure systems, where doing damage to a single installation will knock the service out for a much wider area. Figure out where power, water, communications, etc. come into the city or bundle up, and hit those locations.”

(a/n: the two points above was when i was researching on how techno can blow the city up)

  * Heroes in the raid: Skeppy, Wilbur, Phil, Dream, Spifey, BadBoyHalo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! If there's any more questions you have, I'll answer them in the comments.  
I might write the ending chapter, because that's the only chapter I have a hint of motivation to write. 
> 
> Thank you once again for reading Freakshow.


	34. unfinished animatic release

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY i just wanted to release this old unfinished animatic i had in mind  
no im not gonna keep writing

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KOr8eGd0Pfs&feature=youtu.be&ab_channel=SophisticatedTrash>

**Author's Note:**

> Join the discord: https://discord.gg/b8R4NVk (for character refs, sneak-peeks, asks, plot hints, and more!)
> 
> to send fanart in: send it through the discord, use imgur link (less preferred)


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